


Mutually Assured Destruction

by Lynn_Nexus



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:16:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_Nexus/pseuds/Lynn_Nexus
Summary: A confluence of events gives Rust some dirt on Clover.  To mollify her he gives her some dirt on him...  Entertaining situations ensue





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, So this is reasonably close to Cannon universe with me trying to keep everything pretty close to what you actually get when you play but maybe a bit more character development. Either way it's my hub's and I's head cannon, Relationship stuff ensues cus I can't help myself.
> 
> It's soemthign that took me like... a month or maybe two ta write and I'm formatting it in chunks and posting it when I get a chunk formatted. Expect updates to be oddly spaced and of various sizes.

“Fuk. Ahm Bored.” Clover groused, sitting in the shit hole apartment safe house she and Rust were holing up in. “Ain't shite ta do round 'ere.” Her foot was twitching, a sure sign she'd been idle without purpose for more than an hour. She was in serious need of some kind of distraction. Rust shrugged silently, peeking out of the window for probably the millionth time in the last hour. The big older man stood like a white haired statue while she chewed on her pinky nail, his eyes hard and intense out the window. “Hey, we got internet. Go on. I'm not gonna complain if you find a show or some shit.” He gave a roll of his shoulder, not really looking at her when he pulled his mouth to the side, a dismissive face he made sometimes, not really a smile but similar to one. “Just wear headphones an don't start laughin too loudly... Yknow? Cuz then I'll wanna watch it too.” His dry humor pulled a half laugh half scoff out of her while he pulled the blinds ever so slightly out again. Some music might actually calm her, and she did always like reviewing news stories about the crimes she'd been part of committing. That'd blow at least a half an hour right?

She muttered something to the effect of “yea I'll do that” and ambled around the shitty apartment. They'd both dressed down slightly. He'd thrown off his gloves and leather jacket, she'd shimmied out of her navy jacket as well, it was too warm in the place and a pair of fans tried valiantly to keep it livable. Moving out of the fan's path certainly let you know how stagnant the air was in the room. She found the laptop and pulled a pair of earbuds out to honor his request, she didn't really want to listen to her music _with_ him anyway. Rust was really laid back for a felon, at least when they weren't on a job. On the job his focus was admirable, even if he wasn't always that creative. Word was he killed his old gang to join the crew and that was certainly something she could respect. Clover found her way back to the couch, in front of the fan she'd pointed her way so it would blow her hair out of her face rather than into it. After kicking her shoes off she leaned against the arm of the couch and propped the laptop on her bent knees. She pulled up a play list of music and searched news sites while time passed. There was a fair chance that the heat wasn't going to die down right away so they may well be stuck taking turns watching the windows most the night. A good hour ticked off the clock, Clover engrossing herself in the internet. Clicking through this, that, and the other news story gave her plenty of excuses to relax that reading her email certainly never gave her. She moved on to other fun stuff on the internet, there were a few games she did play on the computer, just a few. 

An explosion ruined the woman's relaxed state, throwing the laptop to the other end of the couch while she jumped up. The earbuds, still in her ears, ripped out of the laptop as she drew her ever present pistol from where she'd set it on the coffee table, turning towards the sound. “Shit. Well that's gonna screw with us... Accident...” Rust seemed, as usual, unruffled by what was going on. Just watching out the window, though she did notice the slightest tension in his frame, his hand on the shotgun he preferred as he looked out at the mangled car. He watched, that tension still in him and his eyes hard as the bent steel he was watching. He hummed softly to himself, seeming to help himself calm down repeating a song stuck in his head. Eyes still out the window he stopped humming. The song kept going. Adrenaline had just started to filter out of her blood when it spiked again. Now without a headset keeping it quiet the music she'd been listening to filled the room, the next song kicking up, it's soft tones and sweet melody at odds with the persona she projected. She winced as his eyes turned towards her and a grin spread across his face. “Shite. Wull thare goes muh Hardass image...” She complained softly, more to herself as mischief lit his blue eyes. There was a moment of despair seeing the nearly malicious glee on his face and he stood away from the wall. “Naow dunt ya go bein a cunt...” She slipped a bit further into her accent as she took a step forward, the falling feeling of despair just as quickly replaced by the burn of anger willing to turn to rage.

“No... No problems Earth Angel...” Clover gripped her hand to a fist at her side, he was ribbing her, she had to believe he was just ribbing her. It seemed true as well, he wasn't so much so mocking her as he was savoring the damning evidence. She could see him stare off to the side, listening to the song, before his blue eyes snapped back to her dark, nearly black, ones. “Shove that grin up yer arse.” She complained, her posture melting slightly as she watched him obviously enjoy the cover of an old song. He walked slowly towards her, hands held open towards her and rolled his smirking face back in a very casual motion she'd seen him do before to indicate there was no problem. “Hey, hey. Ain't so bad. It's a good song Clover.” She glared at him, shifting back but not moving her feet away from him, standing her ground. He stopped a pair of steps away from her, turning his hands upwards, twitching his fingers back towards himself. “C'mere.” She nearly hissed at him and opened her mouth to shout at him. “You 'avin a go at me?” She cocked her head at him, her whole body tense as his lips split to show his teeth in a far wider grin while a chuckle slipped from him. “Jus C'mere Clover...”

She nearly snapped as he reached out and rough, thick, calloused fingers slid very delicately along the outside of her arm. The nearly ticklish touch caused her hand to spasm open and he picked her hand up, moving in with a knowing grin. Thick meaty hands clasped her, one holding her hand up and away, the other pulling her other hand up to his shoulder before clasping her hip, leading her to gently rock back and forth. She was almost too stunned to be angry as the song continued softly in the background, the smirk still plastered across his face. She was forced to look up at him, with her shoes off he stood even taller than her. It made her feel like a little girl at a dance with a far older boy, his casual teeshirt stuck to him and his jeans were fairly snug across his hips, leaving her feeling flustered in a slightly different way. Something about the thick meatyness of him made her feel particularly dwarfed even if he wasn't the biggest guy she'd known. She couldn't quite relax all the way to enjoy the gentle motion at first, still not knowing why he'd decided to dance with her.

“Took dance class when I was little. Mom made me. Still remember some of it...” He had undeniable rhythm that she would have never guessed, able to maneuver them around the crowded furniture to show off a bit of foot work. That smug smirk turned to a small half smile looking down at her. She couldn't help but feel strange about the situation, it was shockingly enjoyable even in the heat to have him waltz her around. The grim bitter frown that almost never left her face softened and she sighed looking away from him, trying to decide if she should break his hold on her or simply enjoy it. He twirled her gently before pulling her back against his chest, his muscles certainly weren't unused, the hard presence of his musculature showed faintly beneath the teeshirt but was clear and present under her hand. As the song ended he laid her back on his arm in a shallow little dip and then set her right before letting the smirk slide back across his features. He turned his back to her and she took a deep breath, rage having flown the coup leaving just confusion. “Wh... Whut wuz 'at fer?” She questioned him, mind reeling. She was still able to feel the lines of his fingers on her hip as the fan cooled the hot skin. Could still feel the press of his chest against her as he held her to dip her.

“Mutually assured destruction.” He stated simply, walking slowly back to the wall he had been against earlier. She quickly moved over to silence her playlist before it could level another embarrassing accusation at her. “Wut?” She questioned when she could think about what he was saying. “We both have damning evidence against the other. Now we're even.” He offered over his shoulder and she let out a laugh, tight but truly amused. She thought to say something, to mock him like he'd teased her, to demand something but her laugh turned to small soft chuckles and she calmed. “Mkay. How's da accident lookin?” He leaned back against the wall and peeked out once more. “Fire's responded. Lets get with Bain. I'd rather not be part of an investigation for reckless driving...” They packed up, her slipping back into her shoes and him shrugging into his jacket. Not another word was spoken between them, Bain agreed they needed to slip out of the safe house and on to their next location before anyone started snooping around so the pair slipped silently out, getting on the road before anyone could wise up to their presence. Still, the song played in her head and there was a cool spot on her hip where his hand had laid taunting her. Clover hated being taunted, but still she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him. 

~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lady heisters and Rust pull a job that goes tits up. Bonnie and Sydney notice something is going on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K, this round of stuff was kinda based on Four Stores... Low fluff chapter, more action... Blah blah I'm mean to my characters... It only gets meaner from here.

“Heh! Hey Rust... What's it like being the lone sausage at the taco stand?” The flirty young woman purred at the silver haired male. Bonnie chuffed and Clover rolled her eyes as the question came out of the bouncing Aussie. “Dangerous damn taco stand...” He muttered earning him a gufaw from the elder two women and a childish cackle from the youngest. “Love it!” She chirped with glee before falling back into a mockery of seriousness, grin plastered across her face. Clover rolled her eyes again and the Scott next to her elbowed her with a knowing grin on her face. “You got sumthin ta say Bonnie?” Clover grumbled softly towards the eldest woman. “Na. Jus cannae beh cross wit 'er. 's kinna funneh.” Clover stamped down the grin on her face as much as she could. “Not funny enough fer how she's laughin.” Sydney stuck her tongue out at the other women but didn't seem to take any kind of offense to them talking about her. “Lets stop arsin' around an' git paid.”

~~

“Fuk shite!” Plans falling apart is one of the occupational hazards that the payday gang has to deal with. That doesn't make a cop coming around the corner any less damning. Especially when he shouldn't have been back for another fifteen minutes, _especially_ not with a buddy. Bonnie was certainly displeased with seeing that man's face and let him know in no uncertain terms that she was displeased with him. Sadly, one bloody mess on the ground didn't stop his friend from calling in backup which lead to her cursing a very Scottish blue streak. “On yer faces unless ya wantum blown off! NAOW!” Clover screeched at a group of people who'd clearly noticed a cop getting his face rearranged. “Cocksuckers...” The lone male complained nearby while Sydney and Bonnie ziptied people's hands together. “Let's make some money...” Not that you could see it under his mask but there was a grin to his voice. Clover nodded to him, smashing cases and picking locks while he covered her. They'd have to grab everything in sight to make sure they didn't get less than they came for. It took entirely too little time for the cops to show up in force. Rust and Sydney had both worn some armor under their jackets but Clover hadn't worn more than her jacket, she was supposed to do the recon on this one so even Bonnie was more ready to go loud than her.

It happened in the blink of an eye. An armored unit came around from a back door while Rust was backing up Bonnie and Sydney, walking paces forward while he fluidly reloaded and then unloaded his gun. Gun leveled at her head the slightly manic woman screamed, exclaiming there was a “big guy” on her. She kicked out and knocked the gun off center but it still clipped her before he brought the butt of his gun down at her face. The rage filled scream of pain brought Bonnie's attention to the situation quickly, a wordless scream and the swing of her gun later the armored man fell dead, bleeding from several holes. “Rust! Be a lad! Git 'er!” Another pair of shots fired back in the direction he'd been moving and he gave a half smirk at Bonnie. “On it lady.” Even though it took only a few seconds, pain turned the seconds into minutes and hours for Clover who was fighting with her shirt and jacket to expose the raw meat on her shoulder. With the shrill tones of Sydney screaming at and around the room, Rust got to his knees next to the woman who was hissing in pain. The big man's fingers pulled far too delicately at her shirt and he took more than just an instant to look at the wound, she hissed in response to his methodical examination. “Dunt play Doct'r wit meh! Jus close tha _damn hole_!” He screwed his face up as she grabbed his arm with her other hand, gripping hard as he medicated the hole and helped her up. “CLOVER! Lets Move!” The call from one of the other women barely registered through the pain but the Irish woman moved and even hefted the bags on the way out.

The getaway car was only a few dozen foot away when a red dot showed up on Sydney's chest. “TAKE COVER!” Clover shrilled and shoved Sydney out of the way, slamming into Rust while she dove for cover herself. Bonnie growled as she and Sydney ducked behind a car. “Shite... Sniper!” Rust grumbled in reply, he peeked over the cover, spotting the source of the laser sight. “Fuck...” he pulled out his gun, Clover wasn't sure if the shotgun was going to be able to reach a sniper, but she covered him all the same, making sure not to let anyone sneak up on them. Time dilated again, what took just seconds felt like minutes, adrenaline pumping hard through her as she watched him level the shotgun towards an upper floor window, though the building wasn't that far away, the window was only on the second floor and the building wasn't any further than the car. She saw a cop, taser out, crouched and trying to come around a parked car. She'd carried pistols and set a bullet in the cop, enough to back the bastard up, then another one hit in in the throat, making him flop on the ground. A manic giggle bubbled out of her as she trilled her victory. “Taser just went tits up!” As she cackled Rust pulled the trigger, the sound shortly followed by his cries of victory. “Suck my dick sniper!! Suck it good!” He spat defiantly as the body fell out the window it'd been hanging out of. Bonnie and Sydney scrambled out of cover, checking to see if there were any more cops too close for comfort while Rust and Clover got up a bit more slowly.

“Is _that_ wut it takes?” Clover giggled, adrenaline making her light headed. He looked at her, half shocked and half incredulous, as the pair moved towards the car, each carrying a heavy bag, Sydney scampering back to grab one while Bonnie slid into the car. Before he could even register a response she giggled again, the sound poisoned and glib. “C'mon a'for Ah pass out!” She slung the bag she was carrying at him and fell into the back seat of the car. “You gonna make it?” Sydney asked, already having piled into the car. Rust fell in, Bonnie having let off the break before he was all the way in the car, scooping him into the seat forcing him to pull his foot in before the door slammed with their motion. They were off like a shot, losing their pursuit and finding their way back to the safe house rapidly, but not fast enough to stop Clover from passing out from the pain in the back with Sydney. “Ey! Who wants ta wake up Sleepin beaut?” She asked as Rust got out of the front passenger side, moving with swift confidence. “I'll get 'er.” He said simply, not looking at anything but the slumped form in the car. Before Sydney could start trying to wake the woman so she could walk in he pulled the door open and reached in, scooping her up.

The other two women watched with wrapped attention as he pulled her head to his chest so as to not clobber her head on the door jam, an unprecedented level of care taken carrying her in, the other women followed half stunned. Bonnie slipped into the doorway to watch him lay the unconscious Clover on the couch and carefully finished removing her mask which was tipped back off her face but not off her head. He set her mask off to the side, not just casting it away, even picking up her limp arm and laying it across her belly delicately before turning to face the other women. Sydney was practically bouncing on her toes trying to see what was going on. “Need me to recycle the car?” He questioned in his usual, straight forward, to the point way. Bonnie was quick to stealthily press a hand against Sydney to get her moving back towards the car. “Naw laddie... We girls got it...” Bonnie was almost shocked when the presence behind her vanished towards the car. “Yep! Good as done! Have a sit!” Bonnie saw his eyes slide back over to the couch as he walked towards the door to close it and she had to tear her eyes away to not let on that she was starting to feel the giddy feeling gossip gave her.

Sydney's eyes were sparkling with glee as she bounced next to the car. Bonnie grinned as the pair started to drive away. “Well slap my arse an call me a bleedin cunt! Wu'du'ya think on that!?” Sydney bounced in her chair, giddy. “Prince Fuckin Charming!” Bonnie chortled to herself, grinning out the front window as they drove relaxedly along. “Ooooh I can't wait ta lay wagers ahn this!” Sydney leaned back giggling maniacally, only half watching the road but not really watching Bonnie either. “Who ya bettin with?” The larger woman grinned a wry grin and shook her head. “Ya daft? Hox! Less ya want in...” Finally settling her eyes on the other woman the punk leaned forward. “Wazzya bettin on?” There was mischief in her eyes but she was going to push that anyway. “How long it takes fer them ta git in tha sack!” The punk crowed giddily but ribbed Bonnie a bit. “Ya mean ya think they haven't hit the sheets? With him charmin like that?” The answer almost didn't wait for the question. “Ya daft? Not ah chaaance! They've got thar heads shuved so far up thar arses...” Lively as ever Sydney countered. “Yea but how bout what she said earlier hm? Pretty bold if they havn't.” A low chuckle answered that question. “Dinnea miss 'at. She were bein crazy like she do when she's 'urt. I'da known by naow iffin she 'ad. Suh wut ya recon? How long ya think it'll take?”

“If they haven't yet?! Then it'll take bleedin ages! He's a gentleman that one...” Bonnie frowned at the comment. “Yer 'avin a piss... Lad's a biker!” Sydney shook her head, glib grin spread all the way across her face. “Oh sure... He's a biker... An if he didn't give a lick bout the bird he'da stuffed 'er by now... Noooo... He's goin full Gentleman Prince! It'll be weeks at best... Less she makes a move first... Spose she could shave some time offa it but I don't think she will...” Bonnie gave her a quick glance to the side, considering this suggestion. “Alright. Ye're on. I say less'an three weeks. Yer sayin moar? An y'think 'e'll make tha first move?” Sydney shrugged. “Their six in one half dozen on that. Lay yer bet with Hox on who jumps first. I got shit odds on that.” Bonnie nodded, she certainly had her opinions on the odds on who, but she'd let Sydney out of that half a bet. Suddenly the big woman pointed a finger at the younger one, making the already skittish thing jump. “Boooniiieee!!” She complained as the other woman spoke over her. “No fixin tha odds in yer favor by tryina jump him yer own bloody self.” Sydney scoffed at the other woman in mock indignation. “Oh shove it! Too many younger chaps ta go after Santiclause.” The way that she sulked though made Bonnie worry she'd caught on to the younger woman's game.

~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rust helps Clover out with her wound a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, I know Clover is a bit... Um... Crazy in this. Don't worry too much. She's all drugged up and shit, that's why she's acting crazy...

~~

“Uuuooooohhh... Shiiiiiiite.” Clover whispered slowly coming back to the waking world. There was music in her ears that registered as familiar but was still distant. “Oooh fuk me that burns like whiskey!” There was a soft chuckle nearby, over where the music came from, deep and masculine, comforting. Thick hands pulled on her clothes to pull the fabric out of the wound where it'd become stuck to the flesh and goop. “Mmm, looks like you need some more work too...” She grabbed at the strong arm while she hissed angrily, writhing in pain. The other thick hand pried her's off his arm and held her at bay for a moment. “Clover... you're still raw, I didn't get enough on ya out there...” His concern was answered by a litany of curses. He moved fast, she didn't really even know he'd left her side to get the kit until he started pulling the fabric back again and working the stuff into her shoulder. “Fuk I know yer bein gentle but FUUUUK! Buy a girl a drink first!” She complained as he finished up, her hand still gripped his knee where he put it to stop her from flailing, the other hand slowly relaxing out of the tatty sofa she was laying on. “How's my bedside manner?” He questioned with a half grin on his face, causing her to laugh and then curse again when the motion brought more pain. 

Clover opened her eyes in a panic when the music finally made it through the pain to her brain. The chipper but slightly minor version of Mr. Sandman played she felt panic rise above the pain for a new and different reason to have adrenaline pumping through her body. “What in the bleedin hell are you doin?!” She tried to get up and snap the laptop playing the offending music closed but she was grabbed before she could get all the way sat up. Her reaction time was slowed by pain and medication, so when she reached under her to pull out her pistol and threaten him Rust had her hand pinned above her head and her pistol on the floor before she could even tighten her grip on the damn thing. “Cut it...” He started as she grabbed at his back, looking for small arms in his waistband and a half hysterical voice cut him off. “Ya bloody bastard! How dar ya!?” He shifted his weight to stop her legs from kicking as he bellowed in her face. “CLOVER! Cut the shit!” She glared up at him and her own voice as dangerous as his. “Explain yer self...” He growled at her challenge and was quick to give her what she wanted while not releasing her. “Sydney and Bonnie went drinkin. They won't be back till the bars close! I'm not gonna out you dammit!” A cold war of glares lasted longer than was comfortable, both silently conceding ground, him easing up off her legs and her letting her eyes drift to his shoulder. “Took me some time to find the version you were listening too...” He offered when he was no longer worried that she was going to go for a gun, slowly easing the rest of the way off of her as she gingerly sat up. “It's from some silly zombie game?” 

“'ey! Stubbs 's a damn good game! Funneh too.” He put his hands up in surrender. “If you say so... Got some damn good remakes on the soundtrack... You played it?” She absently rubbed her wrist while he moved back to the other seat and she swung her feet to the floor. “Wull yeah... Houston showed it ta me. It's a really fun game...” She gestured weakly as he leaned back in the chair, sizing her up. “Can ya play with someone else?” She stopped dead, her face blankly confused at him for a long moment. “Y'kin play with other people... Ya both play the same zombie in a differ'nt col'red suit...” His grin spread. “Wait... You play the _zombie_?” She blinked at him, not quite sure what to make of the conversation. “Yea... Stubbs... Stubbs tha Zombie...” The song had long since moved on but the pair still sat there, her half shocked and him mildly amused. “Maybe you'll show me sometime.” He offered and she nodded, some of the surprise bleeding out of her. “What'a ya do wit yer free time?” She asked and he shrugged, looking off to the side slightly, focusing more on the couch than her. “Work on my bike...” Her mouth went without her brain for just a moment. “'ow much work duz a bike need?” The slightly admonishing grin he gave her as his eyes snapped back to her face made her stammer for just an instant. “Not as much as I put into it. Used to do table top games though.” 

She shifted, looking to her wounded shoulder, starting to feel the mixture of dizzy and sleepy that stuff usually made you. “Why'd ya stop?” She asked, genuinely curious. “Not much of anyone to play with.” Clover slumped slightly against the couch, feeling the effects pretty heavily after getting a second dose. There wouldn't even be a mark in a day or two but it could fuck you up in the meantime. “Ats'a shame... Ayed play wit'cha but ah dunt kno 'ow...” She couldn't see the new, slightly sweeter grin on his face. “Lay down Clover... Before you fall over.” A slow chuckle slipped from her and she sat up, trying to shake off the sleep and shed her jacket. “Eh'd be quite tha sight if ah nutted muh heed huh?” She slurred slightly, clearly fighting the sleep she needed. Once again he moved to help her when she dipped too low for comfort. “Hey, hold up.” He ran a hand down her arm and helped her out of the jacket without her ripping herself open any more. “Fek, ah'm a right mess. Wut 'app'ned ta muh brar?” She questioned, finally noticing the strap wasn't where it aught to be. Before he could say anything she popped the top buttons on her shirt and peeked in her inside it. “Bugger. 's rooind. Got yer blade?” She questioned and he nodded, not quite sure what she was getting at. “Wull ye sayd ye'd 'elp...” She dove a hand into her shirt and pulled the strap of the ruined bra out, looking expectantly up at him with her head listing away. When he hesitated she frowned. “Aint gonna kip off wit tha damn ting on...”

Half asleep and drugged the woman certainly didn't notice the slight part of his lips as he fought licking them or the way his fingers twitched on the blade as he pulled it out. Usually lazy but observant eyes were hard and sharp, the new tension was ignored by her. With the utmost control he took the strap from her and quickly snapped the elastic thing against his blade. He stepped back and she shifted, trying to reach behind her before making a tiny pained grunt. “Fuk! Jus' slice the rest... dun't make no ne'ermind.” A half laugh escaped him at her predicament, that mote of tension flowed out of him as he saw the humor in the situation. “I know how to work a bra you know...” She groaned and flopped back. “Ain't got tha time fer ya ta arse about wit th' clip. Jus' cut tha fekin thing.” He grinned and shook his head, moving her as he sat down next to her. “I can pick locks, I can work yer fuckin bra Clover.” She let him move her, let him push her shirt up and let the shiver run up her spine. “Fek, dunt tickle...” She whined as he smoothed his hands up her back, pressing her shirt upwards, thick fingers sliding just barely over her ribs. “Ticklish? Really?” He questioned amused and she groaned at how he slowed his hands with this information. She squirmed slightly under his fingers then dug her nails into his knee. “E'ryone's ticklish sum time...” She hissed over her shoulder and saw the wicked grin on his face, him leaning into her now bare back to he could get a look at her face. “Dunt enjoy it so much ya git.” Deft fingers released the fabric and she moaned at the relief of the release, then whined as the dried blood stuck the thing to her tits.

“Ya got a shirt I kin wreck? Mah spare's ah bit too tight... didna think ta bring a tank er sum such.” His hands lingered on her back for just a moment as he leaned back into the couch thinking about her words. “Yea, I got a tank top, lemme get it.” A broad hand gently patted her back while he stood up and walked away. She winced at the blood glued fabric on her bust, just the one cup was stuck and she picked at the lace that kept it held in place. “Iffin Ah 'ave ta git 'elp pryin this off...” She grumbled to herself. She licked her finger and rubbed it on the lace. She nearly jumped when his presence was made known again, it was a few minutes later and she was suddenly aware that it had taken him too long to go get the shirt. She looked up and saw the tank top flung over his shoulder, a wash rag in his hand that looked warm and wet. “K'mon. Lay back... put this on the blood... it'll loosen up...” She settled back with a nod, once the water penetrated the bloody thing it should pull off easily. She unbuttoned the shirt yet further and took the rag from him, he dropped the tank on her belly. As the monolith that had been standing over her moved back to the chair she delicately packed the warm wet rag against her chest and leaned her head back.

~~

“Okay luv, up ya go.” Clover groaned and shifted on the couch as Bonnie kicked her foot that had fallen off. “K'mon, atta gurl!” The smug and cheeky woman let Clover sit up unmolested for just long enough for her to open her eyes and take in her surroundings. “It mornin?” She questioned bleary eyed. “Ah slept tha whole night?” With a silent nod and an entirely too amused smile Bonnie clearly had something on her mind and Clover was worried what the hell could have her so excitable after such a shitty end to a mission. Though Clover suddenly realized it might not have been such a shitty end for her, she hadn't been shot and had gone out drinking. “Finally let Rust offa watch Ah see...” She reached up and rubbed her shoulder, the one that had been little more than mangled meat the night before. While tender and scabbed the raw chunk of her shoulder was healing nicely, the way it felt she guessed the scab would fall off all on it's own before the next day. Awareness of something being not quite right dawned on her slowly. She didn't feel sticky...

“Whut in tha blazes..” She questioned as she took in what she was wearing. A tank top that was far too large for her, tied at the shoulders and at her hip. She didn't remember putting the shirt on, or finally removing her own blood soaked clothes. She looked up at Bonnie, her startled curiosity showing clearly in her eyes. “Sydney git meh shirt off?” She questioned, half of her hoping that the other women had been the ones to help her unconscious form out of the fabric while the other half of her wishing she'd been awake for what she feared had happened. “Oh aye. Though Rust wuz cleanin ya up when we got back. Sawr yer brawr... Right shame that was. Wuz kin'a cute. An dunt wurry. Man left tha room fer yer privacy. One thing ta be changing at tha same time an anudder still ta watch sayz 'e.” There was a knowing lilt to her, a shift to her shoulders that screamed she had dirt and wanted to share it but was being patient.

“Out wit it. Wut ya got.” Clover finally groaned at her, unwilling to play cat and mouse the whole morning. “Oh just thought aye'd let ya know wut he were playin... Snapped it off right quick when he sawr meh.” The self important grin on her face as she sat down had Clover more than a little worried. “Man were hummin along ta Mr San'man! Kin you believe...” Clover stood sharply with a growl, cutting Bonnie off. “That prat... Ay aughta...” As Clover stooped and snatched her gun off the wobbly end table right next to where it'd been dropped the night before Bonnie stood just that much faster. “Whoah naow, wut's got yer nicker's in a twist?” Clover tried to hide the hurt behind her eyes but the other woman knew her well enough that frustration with the sudden attitude change was tempered by worry. “Bastard!” She growled and was answered far too quickly. “Naow wut's so wrong wit him likein ole music? Ah thought it were cute... Sumptin aye should know luv?”

Clover knew she'd just done something stupid but for some reason she couldn't quite stop herself from extolling the other woman with Rust's supposed sin. “Cheeky git... Ah knew he were gonna out me. Let tha whole place know.” There was something that felt so betraying about him having sat there and played _her_ music for anyone to hear and she just knew that everyone who heard it would know immediately it was hers. “Wait, outed _you_? It were _yer_ music he were listenin' too?” Clover gestured angrily at the table as though that was demonstrative. “Not like 'e plays Stubbs...” Suddenly Bonnie seemed to lose all amusement at the situation and glared at the other woman. “Dinnea kno where tha copy wus from ya daffy bird. Ah kinna believe yer gittin in a snit o'er Mr San'man!” When Clover made a despondent face at Bonnie the larger woman plowed forward. “No wan kares! Ah got Tayler Swift on me mp3, dunt matter none! An dunt ya tell a soul!” Clover started to argue back but Bonnie didn't let her get a word in. “Now you listen but good. Dunt you git up in tha man's face o're yer stupid song. Ah dunt believe fer one secund yer this pissed o're it. Wut're ya really groanin 'bout?”

Clover backed up and glared at Bonnie, jaw set angrily. “Nuttin. Jus' o're reactin. Weren't mean nuthin.” There was a grim determination on the thicker woman's face. “Damn right weren't mean nuthin... Man dinnae do a thing ta ya. Naow we're due ta git gon soon. Git yer heed right gurl.” Clover tried to breath the fire out of her lungs as Bonnie meandered towards the bathroom where Sydney almost assuredly was sleeping halfway naked in or around the bathtub. Clover slipped outside, wishing her cigarets hadn't gotten doused in blood in her jacket pocket. Speaking of her ruined clothes, where were they? She looked around and was unsurprised to see a burn mark on the pavement covered in ash and blackened bullshit. Burned. For the best but damn she wished she had a smoke. “Mornin Princess...” She flipped her head towards him, for a large man he could move quietly when he wanted, or maybe she was still dulled from the shit they packed her wound with. She sighed, slightly disgruntled and turned back to look around, listening to him move. Suddenly warm leather flopped over her bare shoulders. “Pulled yer smokes out before I torched yer top. Couple of'um were still good. In the pocket.” He said simply, a thick warm hand smoothed down her back before she heard him retreat into the building. Every bit of anger she had for him escaped her wrapped in his leather jacket, cigs she desperately needed in his pocket that he'd saved for her. Lighter right there with them she pulled one out and lit it, taking a long drag of it. After she exhaled she turned her nose into the collar, lifting the material up over her nose to draw warmth into her face. She loved the smell of leather and there was something about the coat that she just had to have a sniff. Sure enough it smelled like man and hide leaving a soft smile on her face. She'd give it back after her smoke.

~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love a good Vlad mission? Hox, Rust and Clover go do goat simulator... Day one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hubs and I love this mission, it's silly, fun, and added bonus, it's got Vlad being a lunatic!
> 
> Not entirely actuate to how the mission works but this made it a tiny bit less crazy along with my idea on why you don't just shoot the goats ^_~

~~

“Oy, Chains...” Clover questioned the man, he looked a bit tired but rather happy as he milled around the garage. “What can I do ya for?” He drawled, grinning to himself, leaning back against one of the cars. “Jus wus curious... Rust down here wit 'is bike?” She'd been slurring and dropping into her accent a lot lately, she probably needed to stop jawing with Bonnie quite so much, the other woman had an adverse effect on her speech patterns. She made a note to herself to hang out with Hox some time to see if she could get back her less slurred speech. The otherwise happy looking man blinked at her as she motioned towards a bike in the corner. “Naw Clover. Man don't spend any time down here. He ain't got a bike... not here at least.”

You don't do what they do without being capable of hiding your feelings when you wanted to, that didn't make it an easy task. Clover smiled and chuckled to herself, covering her confusion and immediate frustration at the information. “Oh. Well musta mis'eard 'im. Tanks Chains.” She waved to him and walked out, her mind running away with her. He'd said he spent most his time working on his bike, had he lied? What point was there to lying about that? She was far too upset by the idea of him lying to her. She'd lied to other payday members, hell she'd lied to Hoxton years ago. Why was it so bad if he lied to her? What was it about the older man that made her want his attention, want him to seek her out and talk to her. Why did she want him?

A pantsless Sydney was practically dancing down the hall towards the garage when she spotted the other woman. “Chainz in there?” She questioned and for just a moment Clover's face slipped, a frown that screamed that something was bothering her flashed across her face like a startled yelp. “Oooo... Whazza matter girl?” The blue headed woman leaned in front of Clover, eyes wide with sudden concern. “Oh just... I were lookin fer Rust... Thought... I thought he'd 'ave a bike...” Clover gestured behind her trying to shrug off the feelings and the attention. Sydney never bothered trying to hide her emotions and broadcast pity along with a sweet sort of frown. “Naw love... He had to leave it... He's actually pretty angry about that... I wouldn't bring it up unless ya wanna get railed... Not that I'd blame ya... Raawr!” There was a flirty little smirk that passed her face as she clawed the air playfully. “But yea, bloke ain't had a bike fer some time...” She shrugged her shoulders and cocked her expressive head, making her look a bit like a chicken for a millisecond, before patting Clover on the shoulder. With no other attempts at conversation the half naked woman sauntered away, still heading towards the garage singing Chains' name. The comment crept up Clover's spine and slipped away as she focused on other frustrations, to be thought about later.

~~

“Vlad is... Crazy. There's no gittin round it. Mans bloody certifiable.” Hoxton explained, trying to find a way to let the newest member of the gang in on what to expect from this. “So what? We're just picking up some drug mules for him right?” Rust questioned back as he drove, not sure what the deal was. “Oh aye. But there's gonna be sumthin. Ya never know what the hell it's gonna be. Half worried they'll be stuffed fulla mentos er sumthin.” Clover burst into a fit of giggles in the back of the car. “Mentos? Wut! Hox tha fook!” The woman kicked the back of his chair in her giggles. “Oh stuff it Luv.” The youngest in the car, Clover seemed to act it around Hoxton. “Mentos an Coke. Wouldn't put it past the daffy fuck.” She agreed through her giggles. “Like I wus sayin. Don't ya get too comfortable with anythin the man does.”

As quiet fell over the car the woman in the back looked up at the thick hands on the wheel. Rust's knuckles were pale, like he was gripping the wheel too hard. His jaw was set and she could see the muscles working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Blue eyes hard and fixed on what was ahead. She watched him in the mirror for a moment, only to meet those hard blue eyes in the reflective surface. Her heart stopped for a beat, her breath caught in her lungs. It wasn't until he blinked and looked ahead that she could breathe. What had been mere milliseconds felt like ages and left her shifting in her seat. That was intense even for the ex biker. He was mad, not a simple irritation either. Something was eating him, she hoped she wasn't the focus of his ire. Sydney'd made a comment, that if she brought up his bike she'd “get railed” for her troubles. The phrase was one she didn't usually use but after seeing the intensity in his face she suddenly understood. She had been told by Hox what he'd done to prove his loyalty and she certainly didn't want to be on the brunt end of his anger, even if Sydney joked it would get her fucked. 

Fucked by Rust, the idea ricochet around her mind like a twenty two. Did Sydney know how to get fucked by him? That turned her stomach far more than it should have. It wouldn't be so bad but she'd started to come to grips with the fact that she had some feelings for the older man. Thanks be to that Scottish bitch, she'd realized her frustrations were totally out of left field. Now the thought of him and Sydney made her shrivel in her seat. She'd made no moves, she had no right. She looked out the window and let herself drift mentally towards what they needed to do. When her attention pulled back forward, Rust stopped the Longfellow and she gaped at what was in front of them.

“Lookit that mess! Oh fuckin... BULLOCKS! Feckin Vlad, e'ry time! Mark me words, this'll be a right mad house.” Rust grunted at the mess, complete with cops and firefighters. Bain kicked up in their ears, letting them know the specifics. “Ok, the Honduran mules are around here somewhere...” He was cut off by Vlad himself. “So uh... Time for some honesty...” Vlad started as the trio stepped out of the car and looked forward at the mess they were about to walk into. “So the uh... Mules? They're goats... GOATS! G. O. T.s! They're running loose... FIND THEM!” Hoxton groaned softly, rubbing the scarred half of his face. The anger that was building in Rust seemed momentarily forgotten. “G o t? Gots?” Clover gave him an exasperated smile as she pulled up her mask. “Time fer a hoolie, laddies!” Mask on as the other two followed suit she pulled her gun and started shouting at the nearby people. “Alright ya arsebags! Eat dirt! Go'an! Git daown!”

“Fook Ah luv it when she duz that!” Hoxton growled playfully, more to himself than to the other man. Rust followed the other man in while Hoxton gladly followed and covered the currently manic woman. She'd brought some very heavy weaponry this time, it was only because they trained as much as they did that the woman was able to not only tote around in heavy armor but with a fucking mini gun. The men were no slouches either, it was simply more drastic with her slight frame, weighing significantly less and standing nearly a hand span shorter than either man. Grabbing a goat from the park as they marched through Rust pointed up, far too up for what they were expecting. “You gotta be shittin me! Found one!” He exclaimed, pointing to some scaffolding with one of the goats prancing around on top, a downed power line lay looped over one of the levels of the scaffold. “Told ya. Man's certifiable... An 'e's gonna get us killed. Fuck!” Hoxton complained as Clover shrugged. “It really that much worse'n stealin a crown fer 'im? Right bloody princess 'e is.” She thumped the back of her hand against Hox's shoulder and the man gave a hearty chuckle. “Yea luv. It's far worse... It's a god be damned goat!” He grumbled playfully throwing his hand up at the offending creature. 

Bain was kind enough to instruct them that they could cut the electricity to the block if they found the right electrical box. It took two boxes for the wire to stop sparking. Hoxton was without a goat and felt spry enough to scamper up after the thing while the other two kept an eye out and shot down any cops that got cheeky. “You an Hoxton seem awfully close...” Rust commented, mask hiding any emotions on either face. “TAZER!” She shouted, swinging her gun around as the man crept around the corner and electrified the aging heister. Rust fell over and she screamed as a Valkyrie, emptying dozens of bullets into the cop before looking down at Rust, reaching a hand out. “Ye want me ta kiss it better?” She lilted behind the mask, a smile in her voice as he grabbed the hand and pulled himself up. He didn't stop himself from making a comment back. “I've had worse offers...” The response he got was a hearty laugh from her and the sound of the other man throwing a goat at them. 

“Shite! O're thar!” She shouted, seeing another one gallop slowly towards another building. “How many of these damn things are there?” Rust complained only for Vlad to pipe up suddenly. “Just Seven... BAAAH!” Rust growled in response. “Then lets get a move on!” They stopped that goat from getting into a burning building, though they had to turn on the sprinklers to stop it from trying to go up the stairs. They were still pretty close to the car so as the two held position, Hox went back and got the car, knowing they could stuff the damn goats in the trunk. Some bleating while he was gone notified the pair that they should check the taco stand next. Rust looked over towards where they hadn't gone yet and saw a goat, prancing in circles on top of a street light. “Hey Clover... Did we maybe get some of the drugs on our hands...?” Exasperation laced heavily in his voice even as he joked. She looked towards the prancing animal and shook her head. “Don't think coke kin do that luv. Tha's a real goat... Fook. 'Ow du we git 'im down frum thar?” She wondered aloud, keeping a hand on the two goats she was keeping still as Hox pulled up in a hail of gunfire. “Brought us the popo Ah see?” She called to Hox as he popped the trunk and she threw a goat at him. Throwing a goat was an unwieldy thing but they managed to get the three in the trunk and snapped up the one in the taco stand with little trouble.

“Kin we jus shoot tha buggerin little thing?” She complained as they looked up at the animal. Hoxton shook his head and sighed, disgruntled he had to disagree with her. “Don't I wish luv. Miss an we'll rupture tha damn drugs. No we gotta get the little cunt down in one piece.” Rust pulled a saw out of the car and rigged it up to the light pole. “Fuck it. Bitch is comin down.” The group ducked behind a car as another group of cops swarmed them. Using the car as cover the three returned fire and when the bullets stopped flying at them they looked to each other. “We found the extraction point for the damn goats yet?” Rust asked the other two and Hoxton nodded. “Yea. Just up the road. I'll dump these little bastards in the trailer then we can go find the other two...” He wasn't back by the time the light pole fell and the pair chased down the fifth goat. A large industrial office building with a planter hid the sixth. Hoxton had found the seventh on his way back, trying to sneak into the park to munch grass.

The Longfellow pulled into the back of the semi trailer and they began moving the remaining goats to the cage as the truck pulled out. All three breathed a sigh of relief, though Hoxton's sigh was more restrained than the other two. Clover shed her armor, knowing they were a ways off from being done, it was late in the afternoon now and it wouldn't be till morning when they got where they were going. As the trunk went down the highway Hoxton got more and more frustrated. “Ey, I'm gonna kip up front. Feelin pretty confined back here...” Clover was quick to agree with him. “Course Hox, Ah know yeh git clostrified.” Rust's face screwed up at the butchered word. “Claustrophobic?” Clover rolled her eyes and grinned at him, some of the frustration from the day melted from the man as her eyes landed on him. “Yea... That. Call up ta tha driver an git'im ta pull over. Maybe we kin stop some place an I kin 'ave a piss?” She looked between the pair and it was agreed upon. It didn't take long until they were all back on the road, bladders empty, snacks distributed, and Hoxton able to see out the windows.

It was dark in the back of the truck, the pair settled into the most comfortable spots they could, the two front seats of the Longfellow. “So... You an Hoxton huh?” He questioned and she smiled in the dark. “Heh. Yea, been 'round 'im fer ages... Think I were fifteen when we met.” She reminisced, the man sitting across from her leaned back in his chair, listening with resignation. “Man took meh in, taught meh... We were both jus kids, but soon enough we was pullin damn fine heists... Right up till Ah went'n decided I were better off by me lonesome.” The regret in her voice cut the air and drew a questioning noise out of him. “Ah kno naow ah were wrong ta do that ta 'im. But... Was kina like... Yer Da always told yer bruther ta look out fer ya... but 'e ne'er told _you_ ta look out fer _him_.” There was a soft sniffling noise. “What'd you do?” Rust questioned, unable to keep from prodding her forward in the story. “Drove off wit a lorry fulla loot... Flippin tha v tha 'ole way.” She scoffed at herself. “This were ages ago. Before 'e got locked up. An I got nicked fer me trouble too. Got outa there... an later when ah found out Hox got snitched... Ah realized I were wrong. 'Elped git im out an 'e welcomed me back.” Rust laughed softly, the warm chuckle almost startled her and she heard his seat creak as he stretched. “Yea, getting sprung from the joint would get me to forgive an ex girlfriend.”

Clover went dead still, her eyes wide in the dark and a strangled sound of disgust filled the space between them. “Girlfriend? Ya daft? I were fifteen! Man was twenty!” The comment shocked another laugh out of him. “Oh yea, Five years. What was I thinking...” She came back quickly at him. “When yer _fifteen_?! No Rust. Hox is like a bruther ta me. Nuthin e'er... Man saw me go through puberty! Nuthin in tha world'd wash that from 'is mind an I c'uld ner be wit som'n who'd seen me like that...” She shuddered and he started to make another comment. “Whatever you say Clover.” She made another half gagging noise and rummaged. “Whar'd meh water go... Damn glad ya dinnea ask round 'im. Sokol asked that'n got an ear full. Were a good hour till he were done... Startid wit 'ow I were 'is lil sister... an ended regailin 'im with tails'a me bein awkward... An talkin bout how I were just a lil' thing...” Rust chuckled warmly, a thick hand came through the dark and rested on her arm. “Cute.” A soft chuckle in his voice while he didn't actually laugh this time.

“How bout you? You 'n Dallas kno each other?” She questioned and he let his hand slide down and away. “That... Yea, Dallas'n I met a few years ago... Bike in the safe house is his. He was sniffin' around the MC Overkills... I was already startin' to get frustrated with the MC's, little things like getting left behind, or not told things I aught to have been told. Felt like I was getting knocked back down the pole y'know?” She nodded uselessly in the dark as he spoke. “Got sick of it, there was Dallas, snoopin'. I didn't stop him. Didn't care enough. My supposed brothers were cuttin' me out slowly. Ended up talkin' with him about the Payday crew and decided that if there was somethin' I could find to get me in with them, I wanted in. Then not too long ago, just before I cut out of the MC's there was a shipment... Somethin' big. Dallas and the Elephant reached out to me and I agreed to find out what I could, and after that I'd join up the payday crew. Rest, as they say, is history.” She could hear him put his hands behind his head in the dark, a smile across her face. “Whar's _yer_ bike?” She asked and he growled low and irritated. “Storage.” Silence stretched between them and she reached over, laying small fingers on his side, brushing them along his teeshirt. “MC's storage?” She questioned gently and he shifted, grabbing her wrist wordlessly. “When ya go fer it... Ah want in.” Hard fingers softened on her wrist and he slowly settled back into his chair. “Thanks...”

Minutes passed with Clover contemplating her next move, what would she do? In the darkness she felt somehow free. Like the darkness would shield her from rejection. It made her bold, far bolder than she'd been with him before, the silence too long. Almost timid she reached across and slid her hand over his arm, up to his shoulder. She leaned in, her fingers dancing across his collar, resting her other hand on the center console. “Rust...” She whispered in the dark. Her stomach fluttered... And he snored. A soft exasperated laugh slipped from her as she fell backwards into her chair, hands covering her face. She felt like a teen girl, awkward and foolish, flirting with a crush who didn't know how she felt. It was both hilarious and enraging. She settled back into her own chair as he continued to softly snore now that he'd started. There was something sort of adorable about the snore, even with it being what stopped her from crawling over the console and finding a way to convince him to fuck her. She passed into a fitful, slightly uncomfortable sleep.

~~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of goat simulator.

~~

“Fuck... My back...” Rust groaned as he woke, only aware of the stiffness in his back at first. The sound made Clover twitch in her sleep, thin, softly calloused fingers twitching against rough denim and warm flesh that wasn't her own. “Clover?” Rusts confused voice made her want to bury her face in the warmth that was under her fingers, her brain not yet supplying that the voice and the warmth both came from the same thing. She stretched slightly, palm pressing firmly against the denim while the other slid along the warm flesh. Her arms were stiff and she gripped the fabric. “Woah!” The startled voice made her head shoot up in the near total darkness. The light of a cell phone kicked up and reality pressed into her mind, Rusts breathing was ragged, she'd pulled herself to sitting with whatever was in her hands... Denim... From Rusts pants... She let go of her fist full of denim, a fist full that had been very, very close to the center of his body and yanked her hands back. “Shite! Sorry... Ah sleep wit two pillows...” She tried to explain but just flustered, ignoring anything he might have said and jamming her hand against the door handle to flee.

The light went out while she leaned against the wall of the trailer, waiting for him to say something. “It's.... It's ok Clover... just... By me dinner first...” She scoffed and pulled her own phone out, turning the flashlight on so she could illuminate the trailer. She could see him buttoning his pants, remembering he'd unbuttoned them before they sat down in the car. When he got out his face quirked in a half smile. “K'mon. Don't make that face Clover. You'll make me feel like a heel...” As much as he was ribbing her she could see a tint of desperation in his ice blue eyes. She couldn't help it, the response just fell from her lips. “Why're you feelin shite? Ahm tha inappropriate panda o're here...” His smirk lost the slightly worried quality it had and she felt better immediately. “Think Hox'd ever believe me? His little sister felt me up? Rather take my chances with the cops...” She chuckled softly and made her way stiffly to the back of the Longfellow while he did the same. They leaned against the back end of the car while they felt the truck amble slowly over rough ground. 

“Probably almost there. What ya think?” She smirked and glanced back at the car. “Well if ya weren't worried bout what Hox'd think, Ah'd say we aught climb in tha back and see if we could freak 'im out...” She elbowed him playfully, hiding how much she wished she could do more than just play around with him. “Prolly aught git our arm'r back on... Knowin Vlad... Ya Nare kno wut'll 'appen.” He nodded in the dim light, a wicked smirk on his face. “If I thought we had time... I might take you up on that little joke... Seein' his face with you poppin yer head up over the back seat might be enough to make the danger worth it...” A cheeky grin split her face as she nibbled her lower lip. “Oh Aye... it'd be plum laughable, 'is face...” A bump rocked her into him and they stumbled slightly, him putting a foot out and grabbing her as she was tilted into his chest. She felt that sweet tingle as he griped her shoulders, making sure she stayed upright. They split from where he held her reluctantly and moved towards their armor. He didn't put his all the way on, just getting the torso on, leaving the arms and legs for the moment. She picked up Hoxton's armor and they waited as the truck stopped. Hoxton carried his armor and a goat into the barn they were using, setting both down. The man inside was entirely too excited to shove his fist up a goats ass.

“Should be pretty quiet. Easy money.” She growled at the comment. “Dun't say that Bain. Fells like whene'er ya say that we end up gittin shot.” There was a slightly disgruntled laugh on the other end of their line with Bain. The man fist fucking the goats was about to start on the first one when voices sound from outside and all four stiffened. The creep about to play vet quailed immediately. “It's the Hondurans!” With that he made a mad dash, jumping into the dumpster to hide. The three remaining stayed very quiet for a long breath. “Lads... Duck.” Clover insisted and both looked at her, shocked as she pulled a mask over her face. “Dun't just gawk ya ninnies! Git yer damn armor on!” She shouted at them as she hefted the massive weapon she had been refusing to let go of “because _Vlad_ ”. The barn's doors flung open and suddenly they were faced with a firing squad. Both men ducked. Rust was only missing a few pieces and strapped in quickly but Hox was still just in his suit, cussing up a storm at his own incompetence. The minigun toting valkyrie let out a battle cry, wordless and angry, stepping around the table to lay waste to this first wave. “Shit! The cops are gonna come running after all that gunfire!” Bain whined in their ears.

Practice is all that had Hoxton up on his feet, armored and guns in hands as quickly as he did, Rust covering for him while he was strapping in. “Fuk! Protect tha bleedin goats!” Hoxton shouted without a hint of irony at the vindictive angel in heavy Kevlar. The first wave fell almost comically fast but so did the number of bullets the woman still had in her gun. “I have my brother in law on his way...” Vlad commented, not nearly as flustered as he really should be. “Oh fuk me! Not that git!” She glanced over at Hoxton, her face hidden but her exasperation clearly enunciated. “What's wrong now?” Rust questioned the other man in between popping off rounds at a head that poked through the door. “Only thin' wors'n Vlad is his shittin bruther in law. Clover, Chains, Jacket an Dallas had ta rescue the damn fool last Christmas. Bleedin fool got inta tha 'nog an mixed fuckin Vodka in the shit.” Hox groaned remembering what he'd been told happened. “Nearly had ta carry the cunt. Hope 'e keeps the damn plane in tha air this time.” 

Bain was right to worry about the cops. It took almost no time for them to show up. It wasn't until they could hear the plane over the gunfire that the group actually listened to hear Bain informing them that the idiot managed to drop the kit for the cage they'd be throwing the goats into in the best possible spot. The group felt the few blessings rain on them, the goats were all sedated and while Rust moved the goats, Clover covering him, shooting cop after cop that tried to get an advantage on them, Hoxton hustled out to the cage to put it together. By the time Rust and Clover had moved out the back Hoxton was running towards them to help transport the animals down the slight hill. Rust hit the button as Hoxton put the last goat into the cage. “Balloon’s deployed Bain... Get these fuckin goats out'a here...” Vlad's relative came over the com, proud of himself. “I'll be there in just a few minutes. Had to get turned around...” Clover growled audibly as another wave of police tried to shoot them down from the slight hill. “No... take yer time... Not like we're gittin' shot at er anything...” Hoxton complained loudly. “Thirty seconds...” The voice responded.

The plane hummed in, coming along at a decent clip, engines roaring, a specialized hook out and waiting to get close enough to the balloon to snag the cage that was waiting for pick up. All three felt the tension mounting as the plane dipped to snag the thing... and passed without getting anywhere near low enough to get the damn thing. “Shit! Missed... Um! I'll turn around for another try! Two minutes!” Hoxton popped a well armored man in the face plate, shattering it and then popped another shot right between his eyes. “Vlad. I'll shoot that fucker down me self if he misses again.” Hoxton's tone was even and metered, no inflection or heat behind the words, just a simple promise of horrible cruel violence. Vlad, true to his usual madness, simply responded with “Eh...” Rust responded to the total lack of concern sarcastically. “Good to know he's got fuckin' family values...” Clover chuckled darkly, pulling out the ammo bag she had strapped to her hip and laying it out. “Ammo o're 'ere.” She informed them, refilling her minigun and her rifle. 

“Thirty seconds!” The call came out again and another wave of cops flowed over the hill like they were dandelion seeds on the wind. They almost didn't notice when the plane dipped plenty low and snagged the thing this time. “WOO! LIKE A GLOVE!” The overly loud crow from the pilot did not sit particularly well with the crew, Hox most vocally. “Wut tha fook! Is he really...” He was cut off by Bain excitedly complaining that they needed to get out via the longfellow. Clover slid into the driver's seat, having been the closest at the time, Hox piling in beside her and Rust diving in the back seat. “You just have to get across the bridge, it's not far away!” Bain cajoled them as Clover sped down the dirt road and through several police barricades before finally getting back onto a main road and heading towards the bridge. “Aw Shit.” The subdued complaint from Rust in the back was nothing in comparison to the line of abuse that filled the car from the pair in front. “BAIN!?” Finally the woman screamed something as they got close. “There have to be controls! There! In that shed!” There was a growl and Hoxton, filled with grim, angry determination, made for the door, C4 he'd been saving pulled out and was duct taped to the door while the other two unloaded on the cops from the road block.

“DUCK!” He shouted at them, jumping the railing and hiding from the blast on the side of the building. A bullet managed to get past Rust's armor and bury it's self in him. The pain didn't seem to bother him at first, him turning and mowing down the offending cop while the door blew off. The three ran up the stairs and Hoxton smashed the button. The bridge started to move at a glacial pace. “I don't know what I expected. Fuuuck.” Complained Rust, bleeding from from one of his legs, then he jerked to duck a ricocheting bullet. As the Bridge made its laboriously slow turn, Rust threw out another bag of much needed ammunition. The three took turns filling a gun while the other two kept the cops back with a discouraging hail of bullets. When the bridge was _finally_ back in position the three charged out, leaping down out of the windows and over the railings towards the car, piling in wherever they'd fit. Hox got the wheel this time and hit the accelerator with a vengeance. Seeing the blood running down the man's armor and seeing him favor that side of himself Clover turned to Rust, pulling off her mask. “'M fine...” He offered, trying to wave her away but she growled at him. “Oh cum tha fook on Rust... Lemme lookit it.”

Hoxton laughed from the front seat. “Best let the lass... She's got tha motherin tone in 'er voice. She'll hen peck ya till ya let'er.” She shot a dirty look over at Hoxton but then insistent fingers and eyes landed on the mask hiding Rust's face. “Dun't be a prat.” She scolded as she pulled the mask off his face before turning to the leg. He shifted and she pulled at straps holding the armor, that hadn't served him quite well enough, off the offending area. “Home free!” Bain chirped in their ears as they pulled into the back end of yet another truck. Hox hopped out and closed the back of the truck with practiced precision, leaving the two in the dark again. “Fook. Git yer phone out...” Momentum pressed them back into the seats and let them know Hox got into the passenger side of the truck without issue. The light of the phone shone over her as she reached under the driver seat to pull out the hidden first aid kit there. Rust leaned back against the door, turning himself and his injured leg towards her. “Clover... It'll be fine...” He insisted and she growled with a glare. “Jus lemme git some'a that stuff on it...” She hedged. “After ahm sure tha bullet ain't still in there...” She unbuckled her chest and shed it, as well as her arm armor, into the front passenger seat with practiced ease. Her own phone joined the light show and she leaned over his thigh where the bullet had hit him, relieved to find the exit wound. “Went straight through...”

She quietly thanked her and his lucky stars that it was mostly through meat and not through anything life threatening. “Been a rough heist on ya 'asn't it?” She questioned, trying to keep her mind from wandering too far while she filled the hole with the same gunk she'd been filled with when she was shot. “Been a real fuck of a time...” He complained, hissing softly as the stuff hadn't yet taken effect. She made sure to get the wound track filled with the stuff and rubbed his leg comfortingly, his other foot rested up on the bench behind her as she leaned over to the outside of his thigh. She looked up at his unmasked face to see him relax slightly as the stuff slowly seeped into his blood stream. She leaned up, using his upper thigh to leverage herself up and unbuckle his chest while he watched her with a slightly amused, edging on drunken, look on his face. “An Hox ain't even here to get in a snit.” He commented and she cocked her head at him, not quite understanding for a moment. When their position finally hit her brain she grinned widely at him. “Oh aye. Shame that... but 'e's not much fer dark confinement... Reminds 'im ah solitary...” She let her face soften looking at him as he sighed leaning his head back. “An yer hurt...” She finished her mothering, making him as comfortable as the back seat of the car would allow. “Thanks Clover.” It was simple, soft, genuine, and it set her heart beating at double time when his hand wrapped around her wrist where it was on his thigh again. 

“'S fine... Ya've dun tha same fer meh... ” She reminded him. She went to get out of the car, let him have the back seat to himself but he didn't release her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “Don't wanna fall asleep till we get to the safe house.” He explained, and her stomach flipped at the idea of what he could be suggesting. “Rust... Yer cover'd in blood, that shite'll git ya kipped off in no time... We're probably sleepin right 'ere agin.” He sighed, other thick hand hanging off his knee and dangling against her back. Clover tried to ignore how intimate the position was, he was hurt and if he wasn't half drunk now he would be soon enough. “Ah kin 'elp ya git inta tha front seat...” She offered and he shook his head drowsily. “Naw. Call Hox an see if there's a place we can crash soon.” He sounded so drowsy she knew he wouldn't make it long. “No Rust. Jus sleep.” She pulled off her jacket and wadded it up, leaning up over him and she managed to wedge it under his head, giving him a small pillow. The soft appreciative “mmm” from him made her smile even as his hand from his knee slid up her side and made her have to bite her lip. Hurt. He was hurt. “Spose...” He yawned, reaching back with the other hand and grabbing her jacket as she retreated. He scooted down when he could without humping her, taking her jacket with him and laying his head on it. “Night Rust...” She whispered as she turned the light off on her phone.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Vlad is a blast cus he's a bastard... Tormenting characters is also fun... >.> Hope everyone is enjoying the fluff as much as I did writing it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night club mission!! Also, the inspiration music on this... and honestly on the rest of the story is Arctic Monkeys "Do I wanna know"
> 
> Everyone is gettin a bit more serious...

~~

“Sydney, and Rust'll come with us.” Clover blinked at Dallas, confused as to why he would pick that particular group. “Ta go ta a club? I kin understand Sydney... But why Me an Rust?” Dallas shrugged and grinned a knowing grin. “Well you cus women will have an easier time getting into the club unmolested...” She leaned forward, glaring slightly. “An Rust? Why not Chains er Sokol?” She wasn't arguing for the others, it just seemed very out of left field to take their eldest heister along to a night club if you wanted to go in quietly. Dallas tipped his chin down slightly, a sure sign that he was unendingly smug with his plan. “Because if anyone can pull off “old Russian mobster” out of the group it's Rust. Remember who usually drinks here...” She groaned softly at his thought process. “Right... Best be checkin ta be sure he'll go...” She warned, not denying that she would, when he cocked his head at her slightly she closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes Dallas... Ah'll go... Shite.” She complained uselessly. She didn't like clubs, they required she wear make up and were frustratingly shallow, most of what she hated in the world. But apparently Rust was going to be there, so there was that.

~~

“So... I'm supposed to be a Russian mobster?” Rust questioned incredulously, looking over at Clover. She'd dolled up before they left even though she still wore her suit. She wore a different shirt this time, showing off her fair chest and had a slightly flirtier cut of jacket, paler than usual though still blue. “No, yer supposed ta be a man goin t'a club. But tha hope is that yer not gonna git stopped cus ya look a bit Russian.” An eyebrow raised her way and she flipped her hands at him as if to shoo away any more questions. “Not my plan. If ya dun't like Dallas's plan yeh shoulda complained earlier'n 'iss.” He shrugged and leaned back while they looked at the bouncer across the street. Dallas and Sydney were both casing the place while the two of them stood out front. “Just don't think that's gonna help any.” She shrugged and leaned next to him. “Ah think yer right. But if ah wanted ta complain...” She let the sentence trail and grinned up at him. “Dun't know if it's good 'r bad news but ya might have ta dance wit me 'n Syndey...” He smirked at that idea. “Can't say that's particularly discouraging.” She gave him a heatless glare made even more ineffectual by the smirk on her face. “Y'kno it's a club... We'll have ta _grind_ on ya...”

“Are... You tryin to _scare me off_?” He had a smirk of his own, but she worried the glint in his eye was for the far younger, more attractive Sydney rather than for her. The other woman had flirted with him the whole ride there, even in the outfit she was wearing Sydney had better curves and was openly sexual. Even Clover sometimes found herself watching the other woman with interest. “Ok, Sydney and I are in position, enter the club, preferably without getting in a fight...” Dallas requested and the pair pushed off the wall. “Wull... Looks like yer stuck wit meh.” He smirked and his hand brushed her as they walked towards the bouncer who looked entirely too present for their good. The bouncer took one look at Clover and shrugged, motioning her onward but when Rust moved with her the man shifted, looking like he was going to block the other male. “Really?” She questioned irritated but was ignored. “Hey old man... We got enough sausage at this party...” The intense blue eyes locked on dark eyes, pressing the slight height advantage Rust had. Suddenly Clover felt his hand wrap possessively around her shoulder. “I'm just here to dance... An I got sumthin' I'm lookin' forward to dancin' with... So'er we gonna have a _problem_?” He pulled her slightly into his side before running an entirely too affectionate hand down her arm. It made her shiver and lean into him, smiling smugly up at the bouncer.

“Damn gold diggers...” The bouncer complained under his breath. “Yea fine... Come on in.” He moved out of their way and they made towards the bar. “Sorry...” Rust's hand lingered on her a bit longer, moving to the small of her back, right over her pistol. The apology chilled her as much as the little display had warmed her. “He was already gonna let you in... If you don't want...” She sighed silently, though the discretion wasn't important in the loud club. “No use now... Tha bouncer thinks we're 'ere together... best make like a couple...” It wasn't that she was bothered by the whole idea of being a couple, it was the pretending. “Ok...” He agreed as they slowed slightly, looking around the room. She felt him shift towards her and she looked up at him to see why. Suddenly his hands were on either side of her throat and cheeks, making it so she couldn't turn away. His lips lunged down onto hers and she gave a startled yelp into his mouth. Her lips parting in her shock while his mimicked the motion, pressing the advantage he had over her slightly as his one hand wrapped around the back of her head. She grabbed his shirt in both surprise and want, feeling swept away by his thicker, muscled body curled over her. She pressed back up into him, eager for the kiss, something she'd desperately wanted but hadn't been expecting. 

His lips slowed and she leaned up into him, half trying to instigate another kiss as his lips toyed delicately with her lower lip. He nuzzled into her for a second then pulled back just enough, whispering to her with a smirk. “Lets dance...” She huffed angrily at him, his sudden cheeky suggestion making her stomach plummet and her knees weaken, fists full of his shirt twisted slightly. “You _dog_.” She hissed up at him and he rolled his eyes. “Yea yea... Shoot me later.” Just as sudden as the kiss Sydney sauntered up. “Oooo I'm jealous... Where's mine?” Rust slid slightly away from Clover but kept a hand on her. “We got the dance floor, you go help Dallas...” He stated simply, the smirk still on his face but it no longer seemed to reach his eyes. Sydney winked at him and walked past. “Later then...” She purred and stealthily slapped his ass on her way past making him blink in silent shock. It hadn't been on her mind for quite some time but the thought that he and Sydney might be a thing or one of many of her things hit Clover again.

He pulled her out to the dance floor and the smirk seemed happier this time though she wasn't sure if that was because he and Sydney didn't see eye to eye and he was glad to be away from her or because he was having fun at her expense. It was hard to concentrate on the job they were there for with him pulling her out to the dance floor, people around them doing their level best to be the first ones to manage to copulate without taking their clothes off. The slow heavy beat of the song started to infect her as he gripped her hips, holding her to him as he moved to the music. When she was facing him she could see behind him and he could do the same for her. “Nothing so far guys.” She spoke softly enough that only he and the people in her ear could hear her. He spun her out and away from himself then pulled her back and put his hands on her hips again, this time with her facing away from him and the vindictive part of her brain pressed her ass back that little bit to roll her hips up him. He hissed softly into her hair, fingers twisting on her hips. “Serves ya right.” She grinned over her shoulder at him and he mimicked her earlier expression of slight shock and disbelief. He rolled his hips into her and she gasped softly, still grinning. 

“So that's how we're playin this?” He questioned into the back of her head. She nodded just enough for him to tell she'd done it and on purpose. He ground into her again, leaning slightly over her, one hand staying firmly on her hips to keep her flush with him while the other reached across her and gripped the opposite shoulder, effectively trapping her against him. “I aughta kick your _ass_ Clover...” he hissed into her ear as he nuzzled her neck and she whined involuntarily. “Yer tha one who started it.” She reminded him, hand sliding into the short gray locks and gripping the back of his head, leaning her own head away so he could reach more of her neck. He took the invitation, nosing through her hair and gently biting her making her shudder. “Arse.” She whispered, fingers twisting against his head, her voice at war with the wanting pressure of her fingers, he chuckled darkly. Though their eyes darted around and took in the room more than each other, they blended in wonderfully with the rest of the horny crowd. “Fuck... I'm screwed if this goes loud...” He complained as he finally let her turn around to face him so one of them could see the other side of the room. He stepped forward, into her and she slid her leg along the outside of his thigh, rolling her hip up the offered leg as she wrapped an arm around behind his neck and took in the other side of the room. She hadn't missed the thickness her ass had awoken. She gasped again as he pressed his thigh up into her harder.

His lips were on hers again but this time he was hungry and demanding, one hand on her hip, pulling her against the center of his body while the other made sure she was kissed. His tongue slid out and into her mouth, scraping against her teeth before she sucked on it. “Shite...” She hissed as they split slightly and he backed up a half step further. “You ok?” He questioned, only his eyes giving away the disquiet at her curse. “Ahm fine ya _bastard_...” She hissed quietly into his mouth before pulling him down and sealing his mouth against hers. While they kissed Bain informed the group of what was happening. “Drivers outside the window... throw the bags down...” She broke the kiss and ran her nails down his back with a pant. “Almost...” She hissed quietly before spinning around and sliding herself down his torso, hands thrown up to either side of his head and sliding down the sides of his face. “Yea... Just a bit longer...” As she stood again, pressing her ass into him in beat with the song. He thrust forward again, earning another startled, excited whine out of her as he pressed the hard thing into her ass. “Ok, that's it... get out of there...” Bains voice informed them. The two dancing ignored it for a moment, moving towards the edge of the crowd they had ended up in the middle of. Eventually she took his hand and walked in through the remaining people. 

“That's the most fun I've had on a job in a while... Need to take you two clubbing more often... Get _my_ time in...” The other woman's voice chilled Clover slightly as they made their way towards the vehicle. She knew that this was just assumptions but he didn't argue with Sydney again, didn't correct her. As she sat in the back with the other woman she felt the need to try and get him alone, ask him if it was all just an act or if they might continue that little dance some place comfortable and quiet. The thoughts consumed her for the ride back and she went towards the bathroom after they got back in the safe house, wanting to get the makeup off her face. She saw Sydney slip into the room Rust used when they were in the safe house. Half a minute later Clover couldn't take watching the door for the young punk to come out of the room and she fled to hers.

~~

“Sydney... What. The. fuck...” Rust asked again for the third time. “Oh come on Rust... Just tell ole Sydney! Clover an you're a thing so which of ya made the first move!?” Rust was reluctant to talk about the subject which made Sydney want to pry even more. “Sydney... Get out.” His voice was low and level, a sure sign of danger. “Awww! C'mon!!! Fine...” When he glared at her, fists balled at his sides she finally left and the man could finally _try_ to relax. “Not even a hint?” She asked, blue mop popping back in the door. “GO!” He growled loudly at her. “What the fuck is wrong with that girl?” He questioned no one, looking at his door and wondering if he should go and try and talk with Clover. She'd been mad at him for the kiss and subsequent kisses. No. Always best to let sleeping dogs lie.

~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover gets up the nerves to finally let Rust know in a round about way that she's interested... And planning for the bike heist.

~~

“So...” The question had been eating her alive. She'd seen Sydney after she ran off to her room far sooner than she guessed it would take for the vixen to disentangle herself from a lover leaving Clover to question what she saw. Finally she'd worked up the courage to speak with the source. “Saw Sydney duck inta yer room after we got back fr'm tha club.” She tried for nonchalance but could feel her gut tightening. “Yea. Crazy broad.” He commented as he shaved, shirt off to the side to not get shaving cream on it as he fixed his goatee. “Dinnea enjoy sum company?” He scoffed as she enjoyed the view. “Enjoyed _Sydneys_ company? No. I showed her the door... several times.” She cocked her head at him as he carefully skid the razor up his throat. “Wut 'app'ned?” He grunted as he worked not looking at her. “She was gettin' nosy about my personal life.” Clover chuckled, feeling lighter now that it was suggested that Sydney wasn't a part of his personal life. “Kin Ah ask wut she were askin' bout?” He sighed and she immediately back peddled . “Oh! Ne'er mind. Dun't wanna git shown tha door...” She held her hands up playfully in surrender, earning a smirk from him.

It took a moment but he sighed, checking the spot he'd just shaved to see if it was clean enough. “Just askin' about my dancin'... and my choice in partners.” There was something about the way he said it that made her flustered, it wasn't enough to say he was happy with what had happened out on that danced floor, but it was close. Her tongue slid over her lower lip as he rinsed the last of the cream off his face. “No intrest in dancin wit 'er?” Her voice sounded loud and worried in her own ears. “Heh. No interest. Even if I did, no one wants to sit on Santas lap.” He put the aftershave on and she grinned at his comment. “Santi Claws? Ya dun't look like Santi Claws! Yer not fat!” She scoffed shaking her head at him. She fell suddenly into silence, the smile fell from her face and she leaned into the door frame. Before he could ask her what was on her mind she spoke it. “Were... Did ya mean it?” He frowned at her suddenly. “Yea, I mean... I don't wanna roll with Sydney...” She cut him off standing away from the wall. “No... Out there... Were ya... Just pretendin'?” The silence stretched too long, his eyes trained on the sink where a few bits of foam sat, his thick hands braced against the edge. She began to fidget, arms crossed defensively as she read his posture and watched him stare silently into the sink. 

She had to flee before she did something truly embarrassing like throwing a fit or crying. “'S fine... Dun't worry bout it...” Her mouth moved without her permission and she gestured emptily at him, he was just a step away, she kept the gesture from turning into a slap by keeping it close to her body. She turned to try and flee with some modicum of grace or dignity or something but his voice stopped her dead in her tracks, not even all the way turned around yet. “No...” There had been a sullen pout on her face, when her head snapped around it morphed quickly towards incredulous but even that faded as she stared back into his blue eyes. He stood up from the sink, wiping his hands on the towel as he stared her down, some odd contest of wills not allowing either to break eye contact. She turned her whole body towards him, taking a slow tentative step into the room, not even sure herself what she was going to do. She slid between him and the sink, one hand ghosting over the faint gray hair on his chest and the other wrapping suddenly around the back of his neck. The chain around his neck bit into her hand while she pulled him down the few inches to meet her. Everything seemed to happen in an instant, the moment their lips touched again, this time they both knew what was going on, neither was playing or pretending. 

Arms wrapped around her, broad hands splaying out on her back and pulling her to him. She kissed him viciously, refusing to let go of him as they shifted, when she felt like he was going to pull away she hooked her leg around behind his, denying him any space away from the heat of her body. He groaned into her, a hand slid down her back to her ass and grabbed her rump, pulling her up and onto the sink. Her legs wrapped around him to keep some semblance of balance in her new position but she refused to break the kiss for more than a moment's breath. She moaned as he ground against her, his hand lingering on her ass. His other hand disarmed her, the ever present pistol was pulled from the back of her waistband and dropped carefully into the sink behind her. She ran her nails down through his hair, her hands roving him and sliding between them to pull her shirt up as his fingers found their way further under that fabric. “Fuk me!” She whimpered as he palmed her back, skin to skin finally and she ripped her shirt up over her head, glad she wasn't in her suit at the moment. The instant without his lips on her had been entirely too long for her and she reached back up with both hands to pull him back towards her. 

As she sucked on his tongue a ringing made her growl. Her hand on the back of his neck she refused to let the kiss be broken by the annoyance. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, with one hand hit the button to ignore the call, sending it to the voice mail that wasn't set up. He made a noise of approval. Thick fingers began to toy with the edges of the lace covering his next desired bit of skin. One hand spread across her ribs, thumb sliding up and over the only frilly thing she was wearing to tease the sensitive skin beneath. Phone forgotten on the edge of the sink behind her, she hooked her fingers in his waistband. She pulled mindlessly on the denim, finding the button without looking and she yanked at the button as he moved down her throat to her shoulder. Biting down seductively, raking his teeth against her skin he made her shudder at the pleasantly rough treatment.

Ring. Ring. She groaned loudly and he hissed against her shoulder, letting go of the hook and eyes he'd been toying with one handed. The hand at her bust slid down her and wrapped around her thigh, the other gripping the sink beside her. He breathed a deep, heavy sigh, in and out, in an attempt to come down from the high of nearly fucking. “Fuk me _sideways_.” She growled as she snatched the phone up and opened it, squeezing him to her with her legs as she did so to keep her balance. He shuddered and gripped her thigh harder, having to take another attempt at a calming breath. “Yea?!” She snapped into the phone and then groaned for an entirely different reason at the answer. “Sure... Ah'll be thar.” A shudder squirmed up her spine, her other hand gripping his chest desperately. She knew there was no chance in hell she was going to get to keep going but her body certainly didn't care. “Ya, gimmie a minit... Ahm in tha loo.” She hissed a half truth, her feet reluctantly slid down his legs and she tilted into him slightly, pressing him back just enough for her to stand. She leaned against him, her feet finally touching the ground again as his hand slid up her thigh to her hip, still gripping her even if he wasn't holding her in place. His breathing was slowly leveling out against her throat and she leaned into him as his lips slid over the skin. “Shut it ya minge.” She turned the phone off vindictively, as though the phone was at fault for the interruption.

“Hoxton?” He asked, fingers running hungrily over her arm, clearly wishing for more time. “Course. Plannin' sumthin'... Shite.” The curse slipped as the goatee tickled the other side of her bared neck and he gripped her arm, not wanting her to go. After a half breath, letting him kiss her throat while she stalled she whined pitifully. She snatched her shirt and ducked out of his hands. “Ah'ma kill tha wanker...” She tried to slip away without looking back, knowing it would make it all the harder to clear her head and think. Her eyes flipped back over her shoulder to him, demanding one last chance to rove over him while he stood there, adjusting himself and buttoning back up before she had to flee, yanking her shirt over her head, she couldn't pounce back onto him.

~~

“So, we were hoping you could help with a difference of opinions.” Bain informed dryly, Dallas spoke up almost immediately. “We have a dilemma. Rust's been with us for some time but he still hasn't given up any details on the item we brought him on for...” Bain's disdainful scoff suggested this might have been a long running argument. “So I suggested that he's a man of simple pleasures. If we retrieve his pleasure... It should loosen his tongue.” There was something infuriating about the way that Dallas was talking about Rust. She kept her irritation to herself as he continued, Bain barely keeping himself from grumbling too loudly. “Seems the MC's still have his bike.” Bain lost the fight with silence, interjecting. “And his mechanic apparently.” Clover shifted in her seat, the thought of a mechanic having been caught brought her mind to a slightly frightened halt. “Duz Rust kno bout 'is friend?” She questioned as coolly as she could, finding herself more emotional on this particular subject. Hoxton, who'd stayed rather silent up till now, spoke up with a shake of his head. “Naw luv, He ain't fuckin moanin bout it... Sure sign he don't know.” She growled softly at the idea. “Dun't spect at'll keep.” 

Dallas nodded sagely at her observation. “When he finds out we need to be in place to offer the necessary assistance or we'll risk losing him and the payday he offers.” The woman sighed, she was torn between being offended and being insulted when Bain spoke. “You've been hanging on him lately. Is he even _bothered_ by this bike? He couldn't be asked to bring it with him...” Bain's annoyance with the situation was clearly getting the better of him, something that was pretty rare but it still rubbed her every kind of raw. “Ah'm wit Dallas on this... If Rust's keepin mum, we aught show 'im we mean ta keep'im. Ah mean... Man killed 'is former bruthers fer us... Least we kin do is git 'im 'is God damn bike...” Hoxton and Dallas nodded, Hoxton had an odd gleam in his eye as he watched her talk about Rust. It made her a bit uncomfortable that apparently she was now Rust's hanger on. Though she'd been trying to get on him when they called they were unlikely to know that particular titbit from this room. “Fine. You've made your point. So lets plan this. The Elephant is in this call...” Bain flipped into a more business like tone abruptly enough to give a person whiplash. The deep smooth voice of The Elephant purred onto the line. “Of course. And I can confirm this would not only be for his bike, but his mechanic friend. We need to move quickly, they've got him at one of their flop houses.” 

“When will we be able to work this in?” The Elephant questioned on the line and before any of the rest could speak Bain chattered away. “I suppose that depends on if Rust is willing to spill when we tell him about the situation.” Clover couldn't keep quiet. She'd been trying not to be unreasonable which she knew she could be, tried not to let her personal feelings get in her way but this was just stupid. “Bain... Iffin ya suggest tha we do anithin outher'n go git that gods be damned bike...” There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line and Hoxton reached over and put a hand on her arm. She ripped her elbow out of his grip and stood, spinning out from under his hand. She was already chewing on her pinky nail in her frustration by the time she turned back to the table. “Have a sit lass...” Hoxton used a low tone, one that he hadn't used on her for years, maybe a decade. She responded just as low, but with a hell of a lot more frustration. “Hox... 'e can't be serious...” He shrugged as the conversation continued without the pair, discussing when and how. “'At man dies... We kin kiss Rust'n 'is info straight tha fuk off.” He gave her a wry grin, one she hated, the superior smirk he got on occasion. “Damnit ya arse...” She hissed. “This 'appens t'day're Ah'm gittin Rust...” Hoxton's superior smirk fell away and he sat up straighter. 

“'ey..!” The suddenly serious look on his face made her smirk, jutting her chin out at him. “An Ah'm closest 't tha door...” She tilted her head down at him and took one more step backwards towards the door, Dallas suddenly not just aware but invested in the conversation between them. She motioned for them to continue watching them both. “Bain. A person is perishable.” Dallas said with a wonderfully smooth lack of inflection, not letting his voice betray the situation in the room. “Fair.” Bain said evenly, Hoxton slowly standing making Clover take in a breath while he stalked towards her. He held her eyes, staring her down as Dallas and Bain dickered about how they'd get there that day and who would come. “Ah'm cumin...” She insisted, not breaking eye contact with Hoxton. “It's going to be loud Clover...” Dallas reminded and she snapped back at him. “Ah fukin kno...” She slowly shifted her weight to pull her other foot back to shift herself closer to the door. “Alright, So Clover, I assume you Dallas, Hoxton made himself available for today... Who's your fourth?” She huffed angrily puffing up slightly, still locked in a stare down with her surrogate brother. “Rust obviously.” Hoxton spoke with just a hint of disdain. “Then iffin it goes tits up, 'e can't blame th'rest o' us.” He supplied for Bain who took the explanation easily. “An you, lil girl. Go tell yer... Rust... That we're bout ta git 'is ride.” 

She clamped her teeth together. Hoxton's very deliberate, entirely intentional, slip put her on edge. This was officially _her_ ass as far as he was concerned. Rust was now _her_ problem, his posturing and words told her as much without him ever having to actually state it. Just like he'd told Chains that Sydney was his problem when they started messing around. Just because he didn't actually run the payday gang didn't mean he didn't have the clout to make that sort of threat stick. It wasn't that she thought there was going to be a problem, it was just not what she had been expecting. Perhaps she had mistakenly thought she was partially immune to such ultimatums in her unofficial little sister spot. It didn't matter though. She'd gone up to bat for Rust and for herself, now she'd be damned or she'd make him eat that little lilt to his voice very soon when Rust came through with this big ass payday he was apparently sitting on. “Course. Ah'll go let Rust kno.” She finally broke their stare to look over his shoulder at Dallas who was confirming how long until they left. “Ah'll be thar.” She stated and slipped away from the now oppressive prescience that had been staring her down. As the call with Bain ended Hoxton wiped his face with both hands. “What...” Dallas started to question and Hoxton cut his question off with his reply. “Man's fukin muh lil sister... Er close ta fukin 'er.” Dallas looked momentarily repulsed. “I will repeat myself... What?” Hoxton laughed heartily at the question. “She stinks of 'is aftershave... Bonnie'll be 'appy.”

~~


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lets get started on the bike hiest!

~~

“God be fukin damned!” Clover took a moment to breathe, to steady herself. There was work to do, and as much as she hated going in loud, as much as it tended to make her hysterical and fray her nerves, there was no way in hell she was going to back out of this. She just needed a moment with Rust, a moment to calm her nerves and ask him about what she'd gotten herself into. She searched for him, not that it took a sleuth to find him in his room. “Hey...” He grinned at her, that lopsided smirk of a grin that he used so much. He hadn't yet put his shirt back on and she couldn't help but rake her eyes back over him. He wasn't muscle bound but he was undeniably muscular, the sort of muscular you could get from lifting and moving rather than from weight training. There was a pleasant sort of softness that skimmed over his hard edges and made him look just as wonderfully thick as he felt. She was almost, _almost_ , grateful that he pulled his shirt over his head and plopped down on the nearest comfortable surface, his bed. “What'd they have that needed you?” There was an unspoken invitation she wanted so badly to take, to join him on the bed.

“T'was bout you...” She offered and the playful look in his eye fell, morphing immediately to guarded concern. “When ya gonna tell Bain bout tha heist ya cum in fer?” She'd never seen him so uncomfortable as she saw him in that moment. “We still got time. Not much but... Enough.” She dropped her arms, not remembering when she'd crossed them as she took a half step into the room, door still standing open behind her. “Y'think we'll drop ya?! Rust!” She was half indignant, half hurt, some part of her knew why but it didn't stop her from feeling personally slighted. He shot her a look back that screamed she knew why he withheld the information and she did but she still huffed unhappily. “Look...” She started, looking away from him, not sure how to tell him. “Ah said ah wanted in when ya went fer yer bike...” He took a sigh, she wasn't sure if it was resigned because he thought she was backing out but it was her best guess. 

“But lookin like we need ta git yer mechanic too... MC's've got 'im.” Later she might realize how bad that had sounded but she _really_ should have guessed he would fly off the handle like he did. He practically roared his rage. Swinging an arm as he stood, he flung the night stand across the room and he advanced a step towards her while the wood clattered, scattering it's contents across the floor. The rage that had immediately boiled to his face would have made a lesser person piss themselves. Clover was not unaffected, though she was probably more subtle than less seasoned person might have been. One foot slid back, turning slightly to make herself a smaller target, her left arm moving forward to protect herself. Her right hand flipped behind her back to her waist band, her thumb sliding under her shirt as she reached for her pistol. The pistol that wasn't there. The one he'd taken out of her waist band. He'd disarmed her.

None of it was particularly overt, but he saw it all the same. It seemed to shift his rage slightly though it didn't make it dissipate. “Really?” He questioned at full bellow as her hand slid back out from under her shirt, her jaw clenching to stop it from quivering. She hissed softly, almost to herself as he flung his hand towards the hand that just reappeared from behind her. “Y'knew what ah were when ya picked me up...” He only half heard what she said and glared down at her, taking another step forward but she didn't back off. “What? What the fuck Clover!” She clamped her teeth again and stomped a foot at him. “Ah Fer... Git yer fukin coat Rust. We're goin. _**Naow**_.” She turned on the foot she'd stamped forward, all but running out of the room to go collect what she needed to have for the mission.

The man took a long slow breath in, closing his eyes as he did so to breath the fire out of his lungs. A voice made his eyes snap back open. “The fuk ya do ta git her quotin parables?” There was an oddly amused quality to Hoxton, wearing his armor already as he watched the other man from the door. The question made the already enraged man nearly fly off the handle again but Hox kept talking. “Spose I's closer t' her, Y' didn't hear her... Snake begs a man to take it cross the river. Idiot agrees an picks th' thing up.” He explained and Rust just blinked, confused as to what the hell the man was on about. “Gits ta bout half ways cross the river an the snake bites im. Man says t'th' snake “Why? Ya killed us both!” n' the snake replies. “Y'knew what I was when ya picked me up.” Only question really... Is which'a you's the snake?” Rust opened his mouth to retort but Hoxton badgered forward. “After her takin up for ya in that meetin, 'm not _real_ sure.” That, that knocked the wind out of Rusts sails finally, he deflated. “Mutually assured destruction.” He groaned quietly at the thought, she'd thrown her lot in with him and hadn't even said anything about it.

“Don't worry too hard on that. She ain't likely pissed at _you_ , if I know her... But she's in just as deep as ya, if this goes tits up.” Rust pulled back at the suggestion, a new danger added to his mix. “What does that mean?” Hoxton pulled a face, almost as smug as it was annoyed. “Oh c'mon now... You were in a _gang_... You _know_ how it works if someone vouches fer another...” With that Hoxton started wandering towards where the van would be parking soon. “Y'got bout ten minutes.” He called over his shoulder, boldly turning his back on the other man. When Rust got to the van that was going to drop them off she was already there, chewing on her nail, not really looking at him. He moved in and sat across from her. “Dun't.” He cocked his head at her. “Don't what?” She took a steadying breath. “Jus dun't. 's fine, iffn Ah were in yer spot... Y'saw 'ow Ah got wit music. Y'dun't wanna know ow Ah were when we were gittin Hox.” Heavy, gloved fingers gripped latex covered digits in a silent acceptance.

~~

“So... you stood up for me?” They'd been alone outside of the bikers hide out for several minutes as they combed the place looking for sign of Rust's bike when he finally spoke up about something other than how annoyed they both found being told to stay out side when everyone knew this was going to go guns blazing as soon as they found any of the bikers and the mechanic they were holding. No sound had given away what was going on, the other men keeping it quite until the absolute last second apparently. Clover shrugged at Rust, picking their way through the garage. “Not like i's a big deal.” He scoffed at her attempt to brush him off. “Not the way Hox put it. If that's how you wanna play this then I suppose.” He rolled his neck and she gave a half smile, moving around the other side of the garage, down a set of stairs. “Rust...” Her voice wavered as she spotted a bike, seemingly similar to his description, a slightly vintage looking thing with matte black paint and pristine chrome... or what was left of it.

She'd seen him rage, this was just as pure as before. “Mother _fucker_...!” He hissed at the sight, telling her she was right when she worried she'd found what they were looking for. “Tha Fuk?” She questioned as she walked up to the thing. “Stripped. Cocksuckers _stripped_ **my** bike!” Clover's eyes flipped around the garage as he whited his knuckles gripping a railing, trying to keep what little calm he could but it was a clearly a loosing battle. “Look round... Maybe tha bit's're still 'ere?” His eyes narrowed and followed her gesture that pointed out the parts laid around from other stripped bikes. “Mike... He'll know...” She had to run to keep up as he turned and made for the bar/club house the other two members were looking around in. He didn't wait, didn't care, he just marched into the place as Hoxton and Dallas were edging around the beating clearly paused in the middle with a man tied to a chair with tape over his mouth. Both of them were hovering over their guns but not yet ready to draw them. “Can't believe Rust wanted to be one of you freaks...” Speak of the devil and he will be there they say. This time the devil wore a mask, resting on the top of his head as they said his name. Clover didn't really hear the rest of their little speech about how they were going to kill Mike and the rest of them. She had been a few steps behind Rust and as he cursed at them she moved in behind him, put on her mask and now she was going to protect _her_ crew.

Stomach tied up in knots, the burglar stepped out from behind Rust and out of her comfort zone once more. A quick spray of bullets across the room forced the other bikers to dive for cover then with far more control she fired bursts at anyone not yet hiding. Rust blasted the man who's fist was covered in what she assumed to be blood from Mike's nose. He didn't stop there, laying out anyone who managed to get in his path. Her clip ran out and she slipped between Hoxton and Dallas, helping the man out of the chair while the other two man covered her. Mike ducked and cowered next to her as the heisters cleared the room and protected the terrified man. Unfettered rage slowly melted out of Rust, while it didn't dissipate totally he was now calmed to the point of being able to be reasoned with. 

“Jesus fuck! What did I do to piss off these shit bags?” Rust interrupted him. “Came to get my bike?” He nodded in response and Rust tilted his head in an almost apologetic manner. “Yea, I mean... Shit man.” He complained and Rust clapped him on the back. “Well we all know you're not just here for me. C'mon man let's go find your bike...” They moved as a group towards the truck, Rust rolled his bike out and Mike made a despondent noise. “Fuck. That's why that engine in the club house looked familiar... K, bring the parts to me... I'll get this bike back together in no time.” Clover covered Mike while the guys ran around getting parts.

~~

“Fuck you, shield fuck!” Rust bellowed as his friend put the finishing touches on his bike, seat, exhaust, engine, decoration and all the tools to get those parts on had been collected and slowly the bike had reformed. “Awww... Y'keep offrin dem... Gunna make me jealous...” The hysterical giggle that followed left him grinning a half smirk at her. The lusty if manic sound of Clover reacting to some of the shit that fell out of his mouth had become common. She managed to take out another wad of cops with another hail of bullets then laughed as they fell. “HA! Suck on THAT!” She screamed and there was a chuckle behind her before more shots rang out. “Shit man! Fuck keep these damn cops offa me!” She swung over and caught a cop that had Mike down on the ground trying to pull the man away while he tried to hide from the cop. Her pistol was pulled and as she walked a pair of steps closer to get the man's head into her view. Clover executed him, the cop falling down as the bullet blew through his helmet and into his head.

“Dun't cry! Be Clover's brave little soldur...” She purred at Mike, a low chuckle in her voice. There was a moment's lull in the battle as the men shot the remaining visible officers down. “There!” The man was shaken but exuberant, having tightened the last bolt and now scrambling to close up the rest of his truck. Clover pushed the button to bring the bike down to the ground again. “K'mon K'imon!” She whined while the others kept their eyes scanning the immediate vicinity. Rust gripped his bike handles and Bain was kind enough to inform them there was another heavily armed round of swat headed their way. They each grabbed a bike, gunning it for the place Bain was telling them to go. Clover crowed as they drove off but was a bit too early in her celebration. Just as they were rounding a corner, Hoxton and Dallas out in front, a shot rang out from a road block that was forcing them the direction they were going. The woman was only able to control the fall, not prevent it as the back tire was shot out.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >.> Cliff hanger? How mean >.< Just one more chapter after this...


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well lets see what happens! Some funny stuff after the tire gets shot out and then... Some quality time in the safe house.

~~

There was the shrill scream of squealing tires as Rust whipped his bike around, seeing the woman fight with the weight of the bike after having been stunned by the crash. The road had ripped her sleeve off but it's loss left her mostly unscathed. “Shite... Fuk!” He watched as she unlatched one leg and scrambled out of the thing, metal and liquid on the pavement ignored as he gunned his bike back towards her. Cops were quickly encroaching on her and Rust blazed past her, startling the people back while she screamed obscenities and shed her armor as quickly as she could. She hadn't managed to get the whole thing off by the time he gunned it back for her, the whole display to back the cops up taking mere seconds. As he moved to drive past her he leaned an arm out and caught her around her middle, knocking the wind out of her as he threw her onto his lap. He gunned it down the tunnel having had to slow down to pull that stunt without throwing himself off his bike. Coughing she shed the last arm she was wearing a smell hit his nose. Gas. “Fuk! Ne'er seen a gas tank fall tha fuk off!” Her eyes were wide with her panic at having been doused. “Shit... Must have been one that was getting work done...” He offered but he wasn't particularly sure about that himself.

Down the tunnel Dallas and Hoxton frowned at the pair. “K'mon Clover... It'll be easier with you on the back...” He said down at her and she blinked. “Yer back??? OH! Me ridin on tha back...” She shook her head and he let her out from where he'd thrown her across his lap. The bike was made to be a single person riding it, that was for sure. She took one look at it and quibbled. “Y'want me ta ride on tha fender?” The seat was clearly made for him and him alone, he shifted slightly and shrugged. “Think you're gonna fall off?” She shook her head and glared at him. “No ya git. Ah think ahm gunna fuk yer bike up bendin tha fukin fender down!” He rolled his eyes at her and slapped the chassis in front of him. “Then sling your legs over and try to stay down so I can see... It's gonna be one hell of a ride though... Nothin ta hold onto...” He hadn't actually expected her to sit in front of him but sure as shit she slung her leg across and sat in his lap fidgeting nervously for a moment looking back at him. Sitting on his lap like that there was no way he'd be able to see the road over her so she leaned forward and put her feet delicately on top of his. All but laying down on the bike he could see now and the other two men blinked and sniggered at her. “Oh Shut yer pie holes. Culd be _you_ gittin ta ride in somun's lap!”

She shifted slightly, finding a place to hold on and Rust's jaw worked at the uncomfortably pleasant pressure on his lap. “Let's go damet.” She growled and he rested a hand on her back. “Shouldn't be far...” Dallas tried to comfort her but she glared at him. The other men made off and she sighed. “Didn't think I'd get you in this position any time soon...” He offered with a slight grin to his voice and she laughed back at him. “Oy. Shut it arse bag. Jus drive...” 

~~

“Y'need me ta wut?” Bonnie questioned Clover who'd cornered her as she was going to pick up the bike and take it back to the main safe house while dropping off more supplies for the group. They were going to be heading towards wherever the next mission took them the next day even though they had three until they were actually planning to do the heist. “Need ya ta git Rust ta go t'tha garage... An keep anyone else from goin' there...” Bonnie gave her a once over, seeing how the woman acted like she did when she'd been waiting for far too long. It was bad because waiting without purpose was a good way for Clover to wig out. Everyone knew Hox made sure she didn't have to wait for orders too long even if she could stake a place out for _days_ it was unwise to leave her without _purpose_. Without _purpose_ the woman could get into all kinds of trouble. “I kin do that fer ya... 'ow long?” A pinky nail found it's way between the woman's lips as she looked off to the side. “Hour? Two at most?”

When Bonnie nodded Clover was off like a shot, gone entirely too fast. What had the woman up in such a tizzy? Bonnie didn't know what had happened in the most recent heist but she'd heard from Hoxton that the woman had Rust's aftershave all over her before the heist and when they talked before she came out to pick up the bike, that she was now stalled from grabbing by an hour or two, he'd mentioned they had some kind of argument that had her acting strangely. In the end it wasn't Sydney or, god forbid, Jimmy, asking for time alone so it was unlikely anything would blow up too spectacularly. The thick woman meandered towards the kitchen, where she was pretty sure she'd seen Rust wandering. Sure enough he was looking around the living room. “Wuzz'a'matter?” He frowned, the picture of a man perplexed. “My jacket. Can't find it.” Clover'd had a chunk of leather wrapped over her arm that looked an awful lot like the missing jacket. “Did'ja check th' garage? Mighta fallen sum place? Round that tool bench in'ehr?” He groaned and scrubbed his hand over his chin, thinking. “May as well check. Fuck.” He complained and started off towards the offending area. 

~~

The grumbling man opened the door from the house to the garage and looked up when something told his mind that he should look at his bike. He found his jacket. On his bike sat Clover, she was wearing his jacket, straddling his bike and smiling over her shoulder at him. What really stopped him was not that she was wearing his jacket but the lack of other clothes. From his position at the door he could very clearly see the pale blue lace panties she was wearing because there was no skirt, no pants, not even socks or shoes on her lower body. His jacket almost covered the panties but she was leaned forward gripping the bikes handles. “Rust...” The name was spoken as a purr and she dropped one hand from the bike, pulling her shoulder back and twisting towards him. She wasn't even wearing a matching bra under that coat. “Uh... Hi..?” The amused question was accompanied by him closing the door behind him. He moved slowly towards the woman who now fidgeted under his gaze, taking in the view. She tipped her chin down and bit her lip, looking at him through her lashes.

“You stole my leathers...” There wasn't any sort of reprimand in his tone, just astonishment as he moved closer. He could see her thinking for just an instant. “Whut makes ya say 'at?” She questioned playfully, hips shifting on the seat and drawing his eyes shamelessly to her panties sliding over his bikes seat. An excited but subdued huff escaped him at the motion of her hips over something that was unequivocally his. “Heh... Clover...” He started to say something but she shifted back on the bike to pull her bare foot up and over the seat, letting the kickstand keep the thing up now as she rested her light frame against it. The soft expanse of her belly showed between the edges of the leather, jacket falling just long enough that it could cover the panties if she closed the thing. A half second of hesitation later she was padding across the floor to him and he was closing the distance as well. “What're you doing?” He reached out to her, letting his hands slide under the jacket across her trim midsection as he chortled at her. “Iffin it ain't obvious at this point...” She whispered playfully as she hooked her arms around behind his head. 

~~

Heavy hands on her skin made her forget about how cold it was in the garage, about how her toes were almost numb and that she was more than a little worried someone would come in on them. She pressed into him, his body warming her top to bottom as he let her pull him down for a kiss. She felt like an ice cube dropped into boiling oil. She was acutely aware of his body and the heat of it as he touched her, as his hands roved over her back and ass, when his calloused palms skid across her ribs to smooth up over her breasts. When their lips parted she stood on her toes and nosed under his chin, laying her lips along the cords of his throat. His chuckle didn't bother her as he ran his hands down over her. “Clover... Why the garage?” He groaned softly as she nibbled the slightly rough skin. She stopped as his words finally hit her. “Oh... Um...” She pulled back ever so slightly and blinked, yea that was a terrible place to fuck...

Suddenly he ducked down and she blinked once more. everything shifted and that heady heat was centered on her belly, she felt weightless. He'd thrown her over his shoulder?! “Lets fix that...” He growled lustily, one arm lazily over her knees and the other reached across to slap her ass. “RUST!” She grabbed his shirt and tried to turn around, but he was half way out of the garage back into the house proper. She squealed wordlessly as he carried his conquest back to one of the rooms. Bonnie was down the hall and cocked her head at the pair. “Found my jacket...” He said with a grin and Bonnie's face lit up while Clover swore death on both their heads. He delivered another slap to her ass. “So aye see... Wull 'ave fun. Ahm due ta git yer bike packed iffin t'ats ok wit ya?” He nodded wordlessly to her. “RUS PUT ME DOWN ER AH'LL **KILL YA**!” Another hand came down across her ass but it was a woman's hand that time. “Oh hush. Yer gittin what ye want.”

“Git tha door fer ya?” Clover continued to struggle and roar, grabbing and punching at his back. “Thanks Bonnie.” A smug voice answered her. “BON! Ah! Will! KIIAAAHHH!!!!?!?!” Fingers trailing delicately down lace made her growl turn to a shocked squeal as the door shut behind them with the other woman grinning like a loon. “You Fukin Arse!” She screamed as she was flung off his shoulder onto the bed with him following her down. He pinned her arms while her legs wrapped around his waist. She ground against the thickness behind his jeans, lace and denim caught between them. Her lips moved to berate him but he silenced her before she could do more than groan angrily at him. He rolled against her hips and a shudder charged through her as she bucked back against him. She tried to press up into the kiss but he kept her pinned beneath him. When he broke the kiss she raged again. “Rrrrraahh!! Ah'll _gut_ ya iffin ya dun't git yer pants off _RIGHT THA FOOK NAOW_!”

She yanked at her arms as he grinned down at her again, taking his time. Forcing her arms down next to her and chuckling into a restrained kiss she bucked against him again. Finally he lifted up off her, pulling his shirt up off over his head. “Oh yooou cunt...” She growled, lunging for his pants and fighting with the button. He huffed at her, enjoying the violent fervor she took to undressing him with but he brushed her hands away to deal with his own pants. She knew he was purposely goading her but she couldn't help it. As his pants slid down ever so slowly she couldn't help but growl and latch her fingers into his underpants like claws and rip the fabric off his hips. She flung a leg out, taking out his knees once the pants were below her prize, hard and bobbing in front of her. He landed with a half startled guffaw and his hands followed her hips as she slid astride him, only lace between her and her prize now. She rolled her head back as her hips slid across him making him groan before he raised up on his elbow. “You gettin' up to take those off or am I ripping them?” There was a smug quality to his voice that nearly set her to raging again but the finger sliding along the inside of her thigh made her shiver.

“Stop arsin round an jus movum!” Both hands shoved the fabric down just a bit to give herself some slack before reaching her own hand down between her legs and shifting the delicate fabric aside so they could grind skin to skin. A bit of his playfulness fell away to need, looking up at her with want darkened eyes as she rolled her hips and lifted up slightly. Some part of her brain, the part that never stopped watching for the situation she was in noticed how he ground his teeth, how his fingers twitched and pulled at her as she sat astride him, how his erection pulsed as it moved against her dripping body. The rest of her just wanted the damn thing inside her. “Fukin fuck! Fook me already!” her nails dug into his skin as she tried to properly angle her hips to get him inside of her. He obliged her, deftly pulling her against his chest and angling himself correctly. When he slammed her hips down over his she squealed in delight and relief. He groaned, hilted in her, both hands gripping her hips almost painfully as she supported herself above him. He shifted below her, pulling at his legs still trapped in his pants. He bounced her up and then pulled her back down leading her to moan like a whore as he fucked into her.

Once his leg was free he nearly unseated her, thrusting and bouncing her forward as he leveraged with his newly freed leg. She shoved back against him and he growled, an arm wrapped around her thin middle and he flipped them over onto her back. Her legs wrapped around him as he rolled them, bucking up into him and flinging her head back to scream. The new angle ground against her just so, she grabbed the back of his head, pulled his lips to hers for a quick and hard kiss while one of his hands landed on her bust. She panted and clawed at him desperately while he arched over her, panting against her throat. A moan turned to a sob in her throat and her fingers caught on his shoulder blade. Her hips spasmed up at his as she panted loudly in his ear. As if the shock of the sudden orgasm wasn't enough he thrust harder into her, pounding her into the bed. Pleasant shocks hit her with his every thrust and she screamed her approval at him. Her pleased screams turned into yips and he slowed down slightly, rolling his hips as her body was wracked with the tail end of her orgasm. He thrust into her slowly now, her whole body rolling with each thrust, her legs having fallen to the side, hands trembling at his back. He started to pick up pace again and now she purred her approval with each stroke, the harsh end of her orgasm over she could again appreciate the fucking.

“Well there ain't no rest for the wicked!” Rusts pants serenaded them from the floor where they'd fallen off his leg. “Cocksucker! Now?” He hissed at the phone, knowing who it was by the ring tone and knowing he couldn't rightly ignore it. She whined softly as he pulled back and snatched the phone out of the pocket, sitting on the edge of the bed while she squirmed and tried to pull a blanket over herself. “Rust?” She cooed quietly as he jabbed his finger at the phone to answer it. “Yea?” his voice carried his frustration as he slid back onto the bed, naked and next to a not quite naked woman who's legs were getting cold fast. “That's good. Yea. He should get some rest.” The man clearly was trying not to get angry at the person on the other end and she weakly lifted her head up, rolling towards him. “No, I don't wan nothin from Mike right now. Let the man rest.” His voice still held that edge of frustration but he pet her hair with his free hand as she curled around his hips. Suddenly as he looked down at her he placed his thumb over the mic for the phone and spoke to her. “Y'should get that jacket off...” She whined wordlessly and he slid his hand over her shoulder gently to help her get out of it before pulling on the sleeve, freeing her from the now sweaty leather. He let the coat drop on the floor and listened while he leaned back and pulled the blanket over her. “Yea... No I'm... Look man, I'm glad he's out. We're leavin in the mornin ta go get that fuckin thing... I told Dallas everything I know about it. Is there anythin else?” 

As he finally hung up the phone he pet her still and she shivered under the cool of the blanket, trying to siphon warmth from his hip as he stood with a groan. “Cum back...” She whined pitifully and he chuckled. “Gimmie a minute?” He questioned, his voice far more pleasant for her. He gestured vaguely but she just watched as his cock bobbed about, still pretty fucking hard. “Oh fer fook... Yer always arsin 'bout wantin a blowwie... Git yer cock in me mouth!” She demanded, it was painfully obvious he hadn't had his and she was gonna be damned if she let him get away without popping off. Shaking hands reached out for him, the half shocked man wasn't about to resist her pull even as she had barely the strength of a kitten to pull him back into the bed. She pulled herself over his lap and dove at him, half drunk off her orgasm. The heel of his hand rested on her shoulder as she wrapped her lips around him and immediately started sucking and bobbing her head. The pressure on her shoulder pulsed in time with her bobbing. A hand wrapped around the base of him to help keep her steady as she sucked on him, his other hand fisted in the sheet next to him. She turned into his hips pushing the thing as far down her throat as she could.

He gasped, pushing harder on her and his hand pulled up from the sheets. He clearly tried to keep from pushing her head down over him but she slowed slightly and his fingers flew to the back of her head, trying to keep up the pace. As soon as he touched her she picked her speed back up, she wanted his hands all over her. She rewarded him with going the exact speed his body demanded, moaning over him and flicking her tongue against him as much as she could with the pace he wanted. His hips humped into her mouth and she was glad for her hand around the base of him as he groaned, his grip becoming harder and more insistent. With a twitch he became still, holding her in place as she slid her lips up and down him slowly, him filling her mouth. She hummed her satisfaction and he shuddered, prying his hands off her so she could pull away when she needed to. She slid up next to him and pulled weakly at the blanket, trying to cover them both. With a little maneuvering they both managed to get under a cover and she wrapped herself around him, playing sleepily with the shell that had fallen off his chest and over his shoulder.

“T...Tom?” She questioned and he stiffened slightly, his arm wrapping more tightly around her. “Yea?” He seemed to be trying for calm but there was a nervous edge to his voice she'd never heard before. “M' glad ya heard me music.” He chuckled softly and rolled into her wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest while he nuzzled her hair. “Me too Clover...” She whined softly. “Rochelle.” He lifted his head off the pillow and looked down into her eyes. “M'names Rochelle...” There was a kind of sadness in his eyes, like there was something bad about to happen. He reached down and kissed her, slow fire creeping into her blood at the way he pressed her back and down. When he finally broke the kiss he whispered in her ear. “I'm glad too Rochelle.” There was some kind of fierceness to him that she didn't fully understand but she held to him and closed her eyes. Mutually assured destruction. It was why she told him her name. If they were going to burn, she wanted it to be together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea I'm terrible, I'm not planning on writing the day two of the heist... SORRY!

**Author's Note:**

> K, there are several songs I listened to on repeat when writing this... And the stubbs the zombie "earth angel" was this chapters inspiration. Link below if you desire...  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0M8olOhvlc


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